


Ag iarraidh forais i bhfodhomhain

by semicolonsandsimiles



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Changelings, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Family Curses, Family Secrets, Ireland, Irish Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Sidhe, but he didn't come out as Irish on the page as he is in my head unfortunately, irish!ronan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25018078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semicolonsandsimiles/pseuds/semicolonsandsimiles
Summary: Adam is more surprised that he came to Ireland at all than he is to find a doorway to the Otherworld. When Persephone gives you cryptic predictions about your future, you’re almost certainly about to stumble into some magic. And for all his exterior bluster, Ronan seems almost relieved to have someone to visit Tír na nÓg with. But things turn complicated quickly when, during what was supposed to be a quick trip through the doorway, they encounter Ronan’s little brother - who is definitely human and definitely in New York. When Adam ends up back in Ireland long term, he finds himself increasingly entangled in the magic of the Lynch bookshop, the Lynch family lore, and one Lynch in particular.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 32
Kudos: 69
Collections: TRC Big Bang 2020





	1. Ar fhoscadh na gcrann

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the TRC Big Bang. This fic is mostly finished and a new chapter will be going up every 3-4 days until it's done.
> 
> The awesome art in chapter 2 is by [forestgeit](https://forestgeitart.tumblr.com/)/[sneakygeit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakygeit/pseuds/sneakygeit) and there will be more awesome art later by [homunculiii](https://homunculiii.tumblr.com/). Also awesome beta-ing by [applepi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/applepi314/).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam walks into an Irish bookshop.

Adam pushed the hood of his rain jacket back to let the drizzle fall on his face; hopefully, the damp chill would keep him alert enough for standing upright and walking. It might also help fight off the lingering nausea from the plane. Adam mentally cursed his roommates’ combined powers of persuasion.

He’d applied to NUI Galway on a whim. Their Biodiversity and Land Use Planning Master’s degree _did_ interest him, but there was approximately zero chance he’d actually be able to do his graduate studies internationally. As fate would have it, though, Gansey had picked up the mail the day his acceptance letter had arrived.

“Adam!” he exclaimed. “It looks like some university in Ireland really wants you to attend. Shall we visit?” This last part was in jest; Gansey knew how Adam felt about planes

“I, um…” Adam quickly opened the envelope and scanned the first sentence. _We are pleased to offer you…_ “It’s an acceptance letter, actually.”

“It’s a whaaat?” Henry asked, bouncing up from the couch where he’d been engrossed in some video game to come read over Adam’s shoulder. “Parrish! Are you going to abandon us for the other side of the pond?”

“Doubtful,” Adam replied, letting Gansey pluck the letter from his hand. “There wasn’t an application fee and it looked like an interesting program, so. It’s not like I’ll be able to actually go, though.”

“Hmm,” Gansey said. “Have you read all this yet?” Before Adam could point out that they hadn’t given him a chance, he went on, “it says they’ll reimburse you for travel and lodging when you come interview for this fellowship --”

“Okay, give me that.” Adam made a grabby motion and Gansey obliged. “Let me read all this myself before it becomes the subject of household speculation.”

There was no point accepting the fellowship interview if the fellowship didn’t offer full tuition and a stipend. You couldn’t work on a student visa, Adam was pretty sure. And no, Henry, he wasn’t going to accept Seondeok paying for his education now that he was an adult. Though she was much more like a parent to him than his biological parents, there were still some things he couldn’t bring himself to accept. But it turned out the fellowship did offer those things, so Adam’s only remaining objection was his phobia of flying.

“You applied to a university on the other side of an ocean, surely you planned for this,” Gansey insisted. 

“Well, no. I expected there was no chance of getting enough funding to actually go, so I didn’t give it a second thought once I sent off the application.”

“My mom has super strong calming tea I can get for you,” Blue offered.

“Which will undoubtedly be so odiferous that security confiscates it,” Henry countered. “I’m sure my mom knows where to get extremely effective sleeping pills.”

Adam kept a straight face, barely. “I will not be accepting questionable drugs from anyone’s mom. I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“Ah-ha!” Henry exclaimed. “So we _are_ going. I knew you’d be unable to resist our combined powers of persuasion.”

“We?”

It did, in fact, turn out to be “we”. Unlike Adam, his friends had immediately noticed that the interview dates fell over spring break. They’d had the trip half-planned before Adam even decided for sure he would go.

Not two hours out of the airport, their group had already split up. Everyone else declared themselves to be ravenous, while Adam was still suffering the effects of motion sickness. He didn’t think he’d be able to stand even the smell of food. It had only made sense to insist they get breakfast without him.

By now he was regretting his decision to go for a walk, though. While the rain kept him awake, it also chilled him more the longer he walked. He started scanning the shops in hopes of finding something other than a restaurant that was open at this hour.

The shops all had civilized opening times like 10 am, not whatever godforsaken hour this was. Adam didn’t want to pull his hands out of his pockets to check. On a whim, he turned down a wide gravel path that led into a copse. 

After entering the trees, Adam realized the path was probably a driveway, actually. A wrought iron fence surrounded a ramshackle garden abutting a stone building. The path disappeared under the bumper of a vintage BMW, which peeked out from beneath its rain cover.

Adam was about to turn around when he noticed the sign at the opposite corner of the fence: SHOP ENTRANCE THIS WAY, it announced in blocky red letters. An arrow pointed around the side of the building.

It was sure to be closed like every other shop, but at least he wasn’t trespassing. Adam followed the faint grass path towards the front of the building. A stone walkway led out to the main sidewalk a short distance away. Closer to the building, the walkway meandered through flowerbeds and trellises that were almost as unkempt as the back garden, though all the plants looked to be flourishing. Adam wondered if the shop’s owner shared Persephone’s philosophy on gardening: keep the plants healthy and otherwise let them do as they please.

At the end of the path, two stone steps led up to a heavy wood door set into ivy-and-moss-covered stones. Metal letters with a fresh coat of black paint had been nailed into the worn planks of the door. LYNCH LORE & LEGENDS, they said. An incongruously modern black and red OPEN sign hung from the doorknob. 

Adam looked through the window to the left of the door. It displayed a few leather-bound tomes that Gansey would undoubtedly swoon over, but no sign containing the shop’s hours. He tested the doorknob; it turned. The wood groaned as he pushed the door open and went in.

The door opened into a short, narrow hallway containing only a combination coat/umbrella rack. Adam removed and hung his jacket while he took in the main room of the bookshop. 

Every wall was covered floor to ceiling in built-in bookshelves, even the walls of a back alcove containing a small desk with an ornate old-fashioned cash register. The bookshelves were solid wood, finished with a dark stain that should have made the room feel oppressive. This effect was prevented by the lamps attached at intervals to the cornices. They were small lamps, with short curved brass necks and bell-shaped green glass shades, but there were so many of them that, combined with the light coming in the front windows, they brightly illuminated the whole store. 

The shelves displayed a good number of old, leather-bound books like those in the window, as well as antique cloth-bound volumes. Haphazardly interspersed among these presumably valuable books were yellowing paperbacks and battered hardbacks.

Along each side wall, two doors interrupted the bookshelves. Three of these doors opened into dim rooms, with faint sunbeams making brighter paths to the windows. The fourth door was closed and framed by a pair of potted trees that barely missed scraping the ceiling.

Adam started browsing the shelves on the wall to his right. Most of the books here looked antique, while the rest were large, textbook-style hardbacks. They had titles like _Táin Bó Cuailnge_ and _Lebor na hUidre._ Adam read a few more of the Irish titles before giving up on this section and entering the nearest side room. 

Two lamps turned on as he walked in; one a floor lamp next to the doorway, the other on a side table next to an overstuffed forest-green sofa that sat under the window. Or maybe it was a large armchair. The three walls not containing the window and sofa were covered in bookshelves. These books looked more pedestrian than those lining the main room and had English titles like _Celtic Mythology_ and _The Book of Irish Legends._

“There you are. Thought maybe my doorbell was announcing a ghost,” said a deep voice with a heavy Irish accent.

“Is that what you call that awful creaking sound?” Adam asked as he turned around.

Adam looked at the voice’s owner and carefully, deliberately closed his mouth against its natural inclination to gape. The man was leaning against one side of the doorway, and his broad shoulders filled most of it. He was a few inches taller than Adam, with sharp blue eyes and closely shaved dark hair. He looked like he might have stepped out of one of the legends in his books and acquired modern clothes: black combat boots, distressed black jeans, and a dark grey flannel shirt unbuttoned over a black t-shirt.

“It’s an _atmospheric_ doorbell,” the man said defensively. “Before you ask, I have no desire to fix it and get a real doorbell.”

Adam nodded. “Makes sense,” he said, glancing around the room again. “Your doorbell says ‘everything in here is well-loved, if you wanted shiny new books gtfo.’”

One side of the man’s mouth quirked up. “Any doorbell of mine would actually say the _fuck off_ part, but that’s the idea. So, have you decided?”

“Decided what?”

“Whether you wanted these books, or shiny new ones.”

“Oh.” Adam blinked rapidly, in case that might clear the cobwebs from his brain. “Well, I wanted an interesting place to stop in out of the rain, and this definitely delivers better than a shiny new bookshop. Though I don’t think those’re open at this hour anyway.”

The man grinned. “Lucky for you my hours are whenever the fuck I want.”

“Lucky for me,” Adam agreed, “though that doesn’t sound great for business.”

“Don’t come in here and tell me how to run my business,” the man snapped back, though his expression suggested he was more amused than offended. “Tea?” He turned and walked towards the desk in the main room. As he followed Ronan, Adam noticed the black barbs of a tattoo just barely peeking out above his collar. 

The desk now held a black teapot covered in an intricate gilt pattern of Celtic knots. A stack of four matching teacups with gilt rims balanced precariously next to it. “Do your ghost visitors drink tea?” Adam asked, gesturing to the larger-than-necessary stack of cups.

“You never know,” the man replied solemnly. “Always best to be hospitable. Especially when supernatural entities are involved.” He plucked two cups from the stack and began pouring tea.

Adam realized he was about to sit down and have tea with someone whose name he didn’t know. “So,” he said, “are you Lynch, or is that just an alliterative name for your shop?”

“I’m _a_ Lynch.” The man -- Lynch -- raised his eyebrows. “My brothers share ownership of the name and the shop. So I usually go by Ronan, to avoid confusion.”

Adam nodded. Ronan looked expectantly at him. Oh, right. “Adam,” he said. “Parrish.” Ronan handed him a cup of tea and gestured at the side room to their left. 

Adam followed him in. This room matched the other side room Adam had visited, except that it had dark green upholstered chairs on either side of the window with a table in between. Once they were seated, Adam asked, “is the tea part of the bookshop experience, or do I get special treatment as the first customer of the day?”

“Nah.” Ronan looked at the floor. “You looked like you were about to fucking keel over, is all. Figured you needed to get some caffeine in ya.”

Adam wasn’t sure how to respond to this. It was certainly true, but he’d assumed he was hiding it well. He had years of practice, after all. “Well,” he said finally, raising his teacup, “Thanks for the rescue.” 

Ronan raised his back. “Couldn’t have you cracking your head open on my bookshelves.”

“No,” Adam agreed. “Could’ve gotten messy.”

“And been a shit-turd way of starting off your first day in Ireland, I’m guessing.”

“So, you get jet lagged customers so often you can guess how long they’ve been here?”

“Eh.” Ronan circled one finger around his face. “I’ve seen sleep deprivation in the mirror often enough.” 

They sipped tea in silence until Ronan sat down his cup and asked, “Anyway, what brings you here? I get the impression you don’t get on planes for fun.”

Adam grimaced at the reminder of his recent experience. The tea seemed to be settling his stomach, at least. “Nope. I’m interviewing for a fellowship at the university.”

“What department? I’ve been around there a bit.”

“Biodiversity and Land Use Planning.” Adam attempted to decipher Ronan’s last sentence. “You’ve ‘been around there’? Are you in school there or does that just mean you’ve, like, walked around the campus a lot?”

Ronan snorted. “Neither. As you’ve probably noticed,” he said, his tone changing to something more formal and professional than Adam would have guessed him capable of, “My bookshop is an invaluable resource for Irish language and literature and history and stuff.”

“You’re a scholarly resource for Irish _stuff_ , got it.”

“So anyway,” Ronan continued in his normal voice, “I know most all the professors in those subjects and they let me drop by their classes when I want to. Also I’ve given a couple lectures.” He said this last bit with a level of nonchalance that suggested he was extremely proud of it.

Adam’s brain helpfully provided him with an image of Ronan, dressed just as he was now, lecturing in one of Adam’s college classrooms. “I’d like to have been there for one of those,” he said honestly.

Ronan grinned ferally. “Come to school here and maybe you’ll get the chance.” 

Just then, Adam’s phone started buzzing. “Ah,” he said, “that’s probably my friends. I’m gonna tell them to meet me here, if that’s ok.”

Ronan shrugged. “The sign still says I’m open.”

Adam picked up the phone to hear a definitely over-caffeinated Henry on the other end. “Yeah, Henry,” he said in response to his roommate’s enthusiastic rambling. “I’m at a bookshop on-” he turned to Ronan. “What’s the address here?” He relayed the answer to Henry. “Y’all should meet me here, Gansey will love it. Okay, see you in a minute.”

“A literal minute?” Ronan asked, once he’d hung up.

“Nah. I think it’s a five-minute walk, but knowing them it will take closer to ten.”

“I’m gonna put the tea stuff away then,” Ronan said, standing and picking up their now-empty teacups. “Don’t want to set any unrealistic expectations.” He strode quickly from the room.

Adam followed more slowly, just catching a glimpse as Ronan disappeared down a hallway off the back wall that Adam hadn’t noticed before. He started browsing the books in the desk alcove.

It was several minutes before Ronan came back, much longer than Adam had expected. So he started when Ronan spoke. “Careful. If you stay back there too long, you might have to ring up a customer. It’s like finders-keepers for employees.”

Adam grinned as he turned around. “Must’ve missed the fine print on the entrance sign,” he said. “What happens when your found employee has to get on a plane at the end of the week?”

Ronan returned the grin. “You get extradited back here. I know the fine print’s boring as shit, Parrish, but you really gotta read that stuff if you want to know these things.”

They were interrupted by the front door’s creak. Adam had wondered if Ronan was exaggerating about using it as a doorbell, but the sound was distinct enough even with his deaf ear turned away.

“Ahoyyyy,” Henry called into the store. “Ready to join our day of questing, Adam?”

“Henry.” Blue patted him on the shoulder. “Be less weird, or I’m removing your coffee privileges.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Gansey breathed, “what a delightful place.” He’d started perusing the books on the nearest wall while the others were still removing their coats.

Ronan watched all this silently, then gave Adam a bemused glance.

“Yeah,” Adam responded to the silent question, “the sleep deprivation may be amplifying it a bit, but they’re always like that.”

Gansey abandoned his examination of the books and strode over to Adam and Ronan. “Would you be the eponymous Mr. Lynch?” he began. “May I just say, I’m enchanted by your bookshop. Would you happen --”

Ronan appeared dumbstruck by this overt display of Ganseyness, so Adam held up a hand to stop him. “Gansey,” he said, “this is Ronan. Ronan, Gansey.”

“Ah,” Gansey said, realization dawning, “was I--”

“Yes,” Adam confirmed, “You very much were.” To Ronan, he added, “his parents are politicians, he can’t help it sometimes.”

Ronan nodded as though this explained everything. “So,” he said to Gansey, “I think I detected a question in the flood of nonsense?”

“It was sincere nonsense,” Gansey protested. “But yes, I was wondering whether you specialize in Irish mythology, or if you do other Celtic mythology as well? Welsh particularly?”

“Uh,” Ronan replied. “Yes to both. There’s a couple shelves for Wales in there.” He flicked a hand towards the side room where he and Adam had been sitting earlier. 

“Excellent,” Gansey began. Before he could make it to the room, Henry dashed over to block the doorway.

“Gansey-man”, Henry said, pressing his hands into either side of the doorway so he could let his head and torso hang forward. “Remember the plans we made over breakfast? Like, literally minutes ago? This was not among them.”

“But--” Gansey protested, attempting to duck under one of Henry’s arms.

Henry moved the arm down to thwart him. “Ah-ah-ah,” he scolded. “No buts. We will return here later in the week. I shall build enough time into the itinerary that you can hunt dusty dead kings to your heart’s content. But for now, adventure awaits!” He made a marching motion towards the front door.

“Adventure awaits _here_ ,” Gansey grumbled, but he turned back to Ronan. “Ah, I suppose we’ll be returning at a later date. What are your hours?”

“Pfft, _hours_ ,” Ronan scoffed. He pressed several buttons in succession to open a drawer of the cash register, and retrieved a business card. He handed this to Gansey with a put-upon sigh. “You can call if you wanna make sure I’m open.”

“Thank you,” Gansey said. “Oh! Adam. I called the B&B to see if we could check in early so you could get some sleep, but unfortunately they won’t have any rooms ready. I hope you’re up to some traipsing about?”

“Ehm,” Adam started. He was certainly capable of “traipsing” while exhausted, but now that the option of not doing that had been hinted at, it sounded far more appealing.

“I’ve got a couch in the office,” Ronan interjected. Pulled from his internal deliberation, Adam blinked slowly at him. Ronan shrugged. “You look like you’re gonna pass out regardless, so.” He waved an arm at the hallway. “Couch, take it or leave it.”

 _But you’re here to vacation with your friends_ and _but what if Ronan’s actually a murderer who lures victims with his bookshop_ were weak arguments against Adam’s fatigue. Well, the latter was probably an absurd argument anyway. “Yeah,” Adam said, “Couch sounds good.”

Blue left off her examination of the trees to come over and gently punch Adam’s bicep. “Have a good nap,” she said. “Don’t miss us too much.”

“We’ll be sure to regale you with tales of all you missed,” Henry added.

“Call us when you wake up,” Gansey said practically. “See you later, Ronan.”

Once they’d left, Ronan jerked his head to motion Adam to follow him down the hallway. It was short, with a bathroom on the right and a closed door with a PRIVATE sign at the end. Ronan reached into the doorway on the left and flicked the lightswitch. There was a desk containing several helter-skelter piles of papers and books, and a bookshelf that was almost equally unorganized. More stacks of books were strewn around the floor. The proffered couch appeared to be the only clear surface.

“Make yourself at home,” Ronan said.

Adam yawned as he sank onto the couch. “How’d you know my home contains roommates who consider piling things everywhere an organizational system?”

“This is a perfectly reasonable organization system, if you’re not a nerd-ass,” Ronan retorted. “Go to sleep.” He turned out the light as he went out.

* * *

When Adam came back to the public part of the store a few hours later, he wondered if he was even more jet lagged than he’d thought. Had the trees framing the closed door really been that big before? The door was no longer closed, either. It was probably just that the room beyond was dark, but it looked like the doorway framed by the trees was an entrance to another world. The ley line was _really_ strong here. 

As Adam came closer, a small girl darted out of the room, skidding to a stop when she noticed Adam staring at her. She wore an off-white fisherman sweater that hung to her knees and was dotted with dirt and grass stains. Wisps of light blonde hair peaked out from under a matching beanie that was pulled down over her ears. She clutched a silvery branch to her chest with both hands.

Adam dropped to a crouch, trying not to startle her further. “Hello,” he said softly. “I’m Adam.” 

The girl approached cautiously, and it was then he noticed her legs: furry, bent in a decidedly ungulate way, and ending in hooves. She put her face right up to his and stared into his eyes for an uncomfortably long time. “You can see me,” she said, finally.

“Course I can see you. You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I’m here, but most humans are less here. So they don’t see me.”

“Opal? What the fuck?”

Opal turned to Ronan, who had entered without them noticing. “This is Adam,” she announced. “He belongs here.”

“No, runt, he’s just visiting.” Ronan frowned at her. “You know you’re not supposed to let visitors see you.”

“I didn’t let him,” Opal said, “I _told_ you. He belongs here.”

“Let me know when you’re ready to be less fucking cryptic about that,” Ronan told her before turning to Adam. “You’re a seer, I guess? You don’t look like this is a particularly shocking revelation to you.”

“Psychic. I think it’s basically the same.”

“Psychics are more likely to be charlatans,” Ronan muttered. Before Adam could protest he added, nodding toward the doorway, “but you gotta have some fucking strong psychic powers to see that.”

“I don’t know that my powers are stronger than the average psychic. They’re….different. Maybe seer is a good description, actually.”

Adam got the impression Ronan was trying to regain his equilibrium. “Really? You see fairy folk a lot?” He might’ve been hopeful or frightened or confused; Adam wasn’t used to people being so difficult to read. Then again, maybe he was all three.

“Not so many fairy folk where I’m from. Magical objects, stuff hidden on the ley line. But it’s more that I can see whatever I need to find. So why did I need to find you, huh?” He asked, turning to Opal.

“You. Belong. Here.” She repeated, irritated. “You need the thin place.”

“He has thin places at home, he just said,” Ronan interjected.

“Yeah,” Adam agreed, “I do.”

“ _No_ ,” Opal snapped, “He belongs here. This one’s his place.” Adam thought Ronan looked….a bit disgruntled, maybe, when he told her Adam was going home at the end of the week.

“He’ll come back,” Opal told them firmly, before vanishing through the doorway. Adam remembered Persephone’s cryptic prediction that he’d meet someone and _something_ in Ireland. He had folded it up and put it in the drawer labeled “don’t drive yourself bonkers thinking about this.” The thing was, it was a fool’s errand to try understanding what Persephone’s predictions meant, but they always came true. Adam was all but certain that the “something” lay beyond the mysterious doorway. Was “someone” Opal? Ronan? Was he engaging in wishful thinking? He shut those questions away in the drawer with Persephone’s prediction and stepped closer to the doorway.

‘“You can’t just wander into Tir na nÓg,” Ronan exclaimed, grabbing Adam’s wrist as he attempted to peer through. “Jesus, isn’t that the first thing they teach you about thin places? Please tell me you know _something_.”

“Yeah,” Adam reassured him, not making any effort to free his wrist. “I do have psychic training. I just...was hoping I might see something without going in.”

“You won’t. There’s some magic shit there to stop anyone seeing through. I don’t know what,” in response to Adam’s questioning look, “it’s been there for centuries, at least. And there’s also some newer shit for good measure.”

“Hmm,” Adam examined the doorway and stretched a hand toward it. “Maybe-”

“ _No,_ you are not going to try to figure it out, Einstein. I’m giving you back to your friends in one piece and with your mind no more messed up than it already is.”

Adam stopped trying. He grinned at Ronan. “Maybe another time then. I better call them.”

* * *

**_The Tale of Niall and Aurora Lynch_ **

_When Niall Lynch was a young man, he had a fairy lover, a leannán sí. Now Niall Lynch was more learned in the fairy lore than most Irishmen of his day, and he knew that mortal lovers of leannán sídhe perished prematurely, the price for romancing a fickle sprite. So Niall loved his fairy lady, but he knew he must leave her if he wanted to live to a ripe old age._

_As it happened, there was a young lady living down the street from Niall who was almost as fair as his fairy love, and many times more kind. Her name was Aurora Behan. Niall thought, if Aurora came to love him, that he might be able to forget his leannán sí. So he wooed her, and found her to be even more lovely than she appeared from afar, and as they fell in love, Niall Lynch found himself thinking of the fairy lady less and less._

_At first, when Niall did not come to her fairy-mound, the leannán sí suspected nothing; for she knew that mortal men were almost as fickle as fairy men, and besides, what were a few mortal months to immortal fairy folk? But Niall Lynch had charmed her to a degree no man had managed for many long centuries. And so, one night, she found herself creeping, invisible as a wraith, silent as the wind, into his bedroom. There, she found a mortal woman asleep in bed with him; for it was Niall and Aurora’s wedding night. The leannán sí fled silently, but she was wroth, and began plotting her vengeance._


	2. Ní troimide an loch an lacha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam walks into a magical forest.

“So, Adam,” Blue stage-whispered conspiratorially. They had just sat down to wait for their food in a fish and chips shop chosen by Henry and Gansey’s combined scouring of Yelp and local food magazines. “Give us the rundown of all the flirting that occurred before we showed up and interrupted you and your brooding bookshop owner.”

“It was nothing, Blue.”

“Nothing, my very attractive ass,” Henry chimed in. “That was some of the most unsubtle _nothing_ I have ever seen.” 

“I may have missed something,” Gansey said.

Henry patted his shoulder. “We won’t hold it against you. We know you were too caught up in your own romance with Glendower.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “He was just friendly.”

“Ah yes,” Blue said sarcastically, “I’m sure _friendly_ is the first word that comes to mind when people describe Ronan.”

“More like gruff and mysterious,” Henry agreed. “But there’s friendly and then there’s _friendly._ ” He raised and lowered his eyebrows dramatically. “I think you know Mr. Lynch was the latter.”

Adam had considered talking this over with Henry later. Or, less considered, more accepted the inevitability that Henry would bring it up. But the whole group discussing his love life -- or lack thereof -- tended to feel like a pile-on.

He knew it was a well-intentioned pile-on, but. Case in point: “Ohhh, I see,” Gansey was saying. “You should come with me when I go back, Adam.” He mimicked Henry’s eyebrow gesture, not very successfully.

“I thought we were all going back.”

“Absolutely not,” Blue declared. “You’re the only one capable of spending as much time in a bookstore as Gansey. Henry and I are going thrifting while Gansey shoves his nose in dusty old books. So, your choice.”

Adam didn’t mind thrifting, but he treated it as an errand while Blue and Henry treated it as a sport. “Dusty old books don’t sound too bad, I guess.”

“Oh,” Gansey said, distracting from whatever questionably-appropriate reaction the others were likely to engage in, “I’d kind of like to go thrifting, too.”

Blue patted his hand. “You always say that,” she reminded him, “and you always end up disappointed, because it turns out you actually wanted to go antiquing.”

“Good point. We should try to do that while we’re here as well.” Gansey turned to Adam. “I’m glad you’ll keep me company in the ‘dusty old bookshop’, at least.”

“Admirably optimistic of you, Gansey,” Henry chortled. “I’m pretty sure Adam will be keeping Ronan company.”

“You’re assuming Ronan wants my company.”

“I did not _assume,”_ Henry said, offended. “I concluded this based on my extensive observation of people sending lovelorn glances towards Adam Parrish. Ronan’s glances definitely fell under the lovelorn category.”

“More like stares than glances, really,” Blue added.

Their food arrived. Adam was spared further conversation in the same vein until he got out of the shower much later that night. “I was serious, you know,” Henry said quietly from his bed.

Adam sighed. “I know, Henry. So you’re probably right. So what? The chances I’ll ever see him again after this week are negligible.”

“Don’t use your math terms on me,” Henry said. “But what I hear you telling me is that you want to see him after this week.”

“Henry.”

“You’re torturing yourself by trying to see into the future again,” Henry said, now completely serious. “Obviously you want to see him again, so do that. After that, who knows?”

“Persephone, probably.”

“In that case, I’m sure she’s already told you. You’ll decipher it eventually.”

Adam fell back onto his bed. “Sure. Goodnight, Henry.”

“‘Night, Adam. Sweet dreams of hot Irishmen.”

* * *

As it happened, Adam saw Ronan again before Gansey’s bookshop excursion. Adam had agreed to visit a pub with his friends “for the cultural experience”, as Henry put it. Within an hour, Gansey was engrossed in conversation with an historian and Blue and Henry were occupied with a game of darts that became lower-scoring with each beer. 

Adam, on the other hand, had had his fill of the loud crowded environment. He tapped Henry on the shoulder. “I’m going for a walk. See you back at the room.” Henry gave him a thumbs up while simultaneously launching a dart that barely hit the bottom of the dartboard. 

Over the last two days, they’d become reasonably familiar with the slice of city between their B&B and the university. Adam turned down what he thought he remembered as a main street. It turned out to be narrower than he’d remembered, and lined with unfamiliar shops and restaurants -- until the street dead-ended at a familiar shop.

The interior of Ronan’s bookshop was still lit. Adam squinted at the door; the OPEN sign was there. He went in.

Ronan stood facing the fairy door; he jumped when Adam came in, then immediately relaxed. “Oh,” he said, “Just you. Fancy a trip to Tir na nÓg?”

“Thought you said those were dangerous.”

“Dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.” Ronan brandished a branch he held in his right hand. “I know what I’m doing.”

The branch was knobbly and gnarled, but shiny polished silver with equally shiny gold leaves. It looked like dining room decor for rich people, a category Adam considered himself an expert on since he’d witnessed multiple Gansey family dining rooms.

“You’re fending off danger with a shiny stick?”

“I could demonstrate how fucking dangerous my stick is.” Ronan waved it at him. “But it’s mostly a token for safe passage. This will keep us safe in Cabeswater, then if we want to go any further we’ll have to hope Opal’s around.”

“Cabeswater?”

“You’ll see.” Ronan pressed his free hand between Adam’s shoulder blades and gave him a gentle shove towards the doorway. Adam took a deep breath, then stepped across the threshold.

He had stepped into Cabeswater. Adam felt he would have known the forest’s name somehow even if Ronan had not told him. Cabeswater was more than trees, though those were impressive enough. Oak and birch and yew and willow and any number of other species Adam couldn’t immediately place; all were clearly ancient, and massive enough to be among the largest of their kind had they been in the mortal world. Within the ancient forest hummed an equally ancient consciousness. _Draíodóir,_ it said. Not audible, but mountain-stream clear. _Tháinig tú._

Ronan stepped through the doorway and bumped shoulders with Adam. “Impressive, huh?”

“It’s very….sentient.” Adam turned to face him. “Is it in the habit of talking to you?”

Ronan’s forehead crinkled. “It calls me _Greywaren_ , but it doesn’t say much else. I think it talks to Opal more. How did….did it say something to you?”

“Maybe. I didn’t understand it. Dree ah door, than ig too?” Adam said slowly.

Ronan’s forehead furrowed even more. “Druid,” he translated. “You came.” He thought some more. “Probably magician is a better translation.”

Adam frowned. “Reminds me of what Opal said the other day. Why do they know me?”

Ronan shrugged. “Guess we’re looking for Opal.”

They hiked wordlessly through Cabeswater. There was no obvious path, but whichever way Ronan turned, they found ample bare or moss-covered space for walking. More moss blanketed the trees and boulders, while ferns sprouted near the trees and bushes filled the relatively open areas. Whenever they reached one of the small bushy clearings, Ronan stopped to call Opal’s name; apparently those were her preferred haunts.

At one such stop, a harsh _kerah! Kerah!_ echoed through the clearing. Adam ducked instinctively as he felt a rush of air on the back of his neck. When he raised his head, a raven was perched on Ronan’s shoulder.

“Jerk-ass,” Ronan scolded it, though his voice was fond. “Leave Adam alone, he hasn’t done anything to you.”

 _“Atom?”_ The bird asked, fixing its beady eyes on him.

“Good girl,” Ronan said, retrieving something from his jacket pocket that the bird ate too quickly for Adam to see. “We like Adam. Don’t harass him.” To Adam, he added, “This is Chainsaw. Eldritch harbinger of death slash greedy messenger bird.”

“So you’re saying,” Adam said slowly, “You’re friends with a magic raven and you named her after a power tool.”

“Yup.”

Adam slowly moved closer and raised a hand. Was it normal to pet ravens? Before he could find out, Chainsaw made a sudden hop and landed on his shoulder, flailing her wings for balance as she landed. 

“Ow. You have _talons_ ,” Adam complained. He was wearing a sweater under a thin puffer jacket, and her claws had gone straight through.

“You gotta wear armor in here,” Ronan said, patting his own leather jacket. “I thought she’d be more skeptical of you.”

“ _Atom,”_ Chainsaw squawked again, bumping her beak against the top of his ear. She seemed extremely pleased with herself. “ _Kreker._ ”

“I just gave you a kreker,” Ronan scolded. “He doesn’t have any.”

 _“Kreker!_ ” Chainsaw bumped her beak more insistently against Adam’s ear.

“No, Adam is not a treat for you, _Jesus._ Can you show us where Opal is?”

“ _Krek!”_ Chainsaw spat. She did a hop-flap back to Ronan’s shoulder. “ _Krek-krek-krek,”_ she insisted.

Ronan sighed. “Oh, get over your grudge already. You don’t have to stay, just show us where she is.”

 _“Krek,”_ Chainsaw said again, but much more quietly. She launched herself from Ronan’s shoulder and flew in the direction they had just come from. Ronan followed at a stroll, even though Chainsaw was almost out of sight.

“Unless you have a sixth sense for following ravens, we’re about to lose her,” Adam observed.

“She’ll stop and wait for us. She’s just mad because her and Opal have this weird rivalry going on.”

“Why? Is Opal also an eldritch horror messenger?”

“No,” Ronan said, mock-solemn. “She’s an eldritch horror guardian. Whatever I am for our side of the gate, she is over here. I gather it’s some sort of punishment for her, though. She won’t really talk about it.”

“Greywaren,” Adam guessed, remembering what the trees called Ronan. “What does that mean?”

“Not sure, actually. I think my dad planned to tell me more --” They had caught up to Chainsaw, and were interrupted by her taking off again, swooping within an inch of their faces before heading the same direction they were going. 

“-- and then he got himself killed,” Ronan went on, as though neither Chainsaw’s flight nor his own words phased him. But Adam saw his jaw tighten and lines appear around the corners of his eyes.

“I--”

“ _Don’t_ say you’re sorry,” Ronan added in a rush. “It was almost eight years ago, and I was done talking about it long before the fucking therapists thought I should be done. Just, I’m telling you to explain how I can be the guardian of a door to Tir na nÓg without really knowing what I’m doing.” 

“Okay.”

“I’ve gone through everything in his office,” Ronan went on more calmly, “and there’s almost nothing directly about it. Maybe it’s somewhere else or someone stole it or something. Maybe you’re just not supposed to write that stuff down. I don’t know.”

They’d stopped under an oak where Chainsaw perched, making a quiet, insistent _krek-krek_ noise. Ronan ignored her and turned to look at Adam. “I think,” he admitted, “that might’ve been a long-winded way of asking if you know much about magical doorways.”

“I’ve never _needed_ to know much,” Adam replied. “But I can think of some places to look.”

Soft footsteps sounded behind them. “Opal, finally,” Ronan said. They both turned.

It was not Opal.

A young boy stood there. Probably 12 to 14, Adam guessed, assuming fairy ages were anything like human ones. He had golden hair, blue eyes that looked somehow familiar, and a lively round face.

Ronan’s eyes widened in shock. Adam realized why the boy’s eyes looked familiar.

“Matthew,” Ronan choked out. “What--? How--?”

The boy shook his head. “I’m not him.”

“Then why,” Ronan snarled, “are you wearing his _fucking face_?”

“I’m not,” the boy said, fearful. “This is my--” He turned and ran.

Adam reached to grab Ronan’s wrist before he could follow. His fingers snagged on the tangle of leather bands there. “Ronan,” he said gently. “What would you do, even if you caught up?”

Ronan rubbed his free hand over his face and groaned. He let out a long string of Irish words that Adam suspected was mostly profanity. “It’s not like I had a _plan_ ,” he said finally. “That’s my brother! Well, him like five years ago. He’s never even been here, as far as I know.”

“Then it’s very unlikely to be him,” Adam soothed.

“Yeah, but that’s his face! You can’t just steal a person’s face! What if they did something to Matthew?”

“Ronan.” Adam took a step in the direction they’d come from, tugging on Ronan’s bracelets. “You’re not going to figure that out by staying here. We should go back, and you can call Matthew.”

To his relief, Ronan started following him, though he kept looking to where not-Matthew had fled. “That’s a better plan,” he said grudgingly. “Knew there was a reason I brought you along.”

As soon as they were back in the bookshop, Ronan threw himself face-first on the floor and loosed another flood of unintelligible curses into it. Adam kicked the side of his foot. “Didn’t you want to make a phone call?”

“Ugh.” Ronan rolled over. “What time is it in New York?”

“Matthew’ll be at some sports practice then. Or out with friends.” Ronan gave a dramatic sigh. “He never answers his phone when he’s socializing. I guess I’ll text Declan.” He pulled a phone from his jacket pocket, tapped a few times, then let his hand flop to the floor with the phone still in it.

“Okay. Do you want me to--” Adam had been about to say _leave_ , but he didn’t want Ronan to assume that’s what _Adam_ wanted. He backtracked. “Do you want me to stay?”

“If you don’t have anywhere else to be?” Ronan looked up at him warily.

“I don’t.”

Ronan rolled to his feet in one swift movement. “Come on then.” He led Adam through the door at the end of the back hallway.

Adam stopped just inside the door, holding it half-open until Ronan successfully fumbled a lamp on. The circle of light showed a brown leather loveseat and the near corner of a coffee table. Beyond, Adam could dimly see a matching sofa and a wide doorway opening into a kitchen.

“Make yourself at home,” Ronan said. He strode into the kitchen. A cabinet door thudded; water ran. Adam had just sat down next to the lamp when Ronan returned and set two glasses of water on the table. He plopped down on the loveseat next to Adam, pulled out his phone, sighed at it, and tapped out a long message.

“You don’t sound that happy about the response,” Adam observed, as Ronan dropped the phone on the table.

Ronan sighed again, and slouched until he could lean his head against the couch and stare at the ceiling. “It’s fine,” he said, in a decidedly irritated tone. “Declan just has a stick up his ass, like usual. Asked me what I screwed up _this time.”_

He kicked the underside of the coffee table a few times, softly. “I haven’t majorly screwed up since _high school_. Well, and Declan thinks not going to uni was a failure, but I did that on purpose.”

“Clearly not a failure,” Adam said quietly. “Who’s the one giving lectures at the university?”

Ronan gave him a wry smile. His phone buzzed. He frowned at it. “Declan says we’d know if any of us had been in Tir na nÓg against our will? I don’t--” The phone buzzed again. “Some kind of magical alarm system Seondeok helped him with, apparently.”

This was maybe the most startling piece of information Adam had learned tonight. Shit. This was maybe something he should have mentioned. “You know Seondeok?”

“ _You_ know Seondeok?” It was Ronan’s turn to be surprised. “If you didn’t know about the magic artifact shit, pretend I didn’t tell you.”

“I knew. Um.” Adam looked down at his lap and tapped one thumb against the other. He took a deep breath. “She was my legal guardian during high school, and also I help with the magic artifact shit sometimes.”

“Right. You find things.” Ronan was still staring at his phone, like it held the answers to whether the guy he’d just taken through his magic doorway was here to steal from and/or spy on him. “ _Wait._ You must’ve gone to Aglionby? Declan tried to send me there.”

Adam gaped at him. “ _That’s_ your takeaway?”

“Yeah?” Ronan looked briefly confused. “Oh, I don’t think you’re, like, Seondeok’s spy or whatever. Declan spent ages vetting Dad’s old business contacts before he decided who was safe to contact about security for the doorway. He’d already know if anything was fucked up.”

Adam thought that Seondeok and Mr. Grey would have been more than capable of hiding anything “fucked up” from one teenaged Lynch, no matter how savvy he might have been. But since he knew they weren’t hiding any such thing, he saw no reason to verbalize that observation. “Well, in that case. How’d you know I went to Aglionby?”

“One of Declan’s arguments for me going was that Seondeok’s son went there. But I thought I hated everyone at the time, so I just didn’t care. Maybe if he’d bothered to introduce you first I would’ve felt differently.”

“Ah. He was probably talking about Henry, actually. They kind of...acquired me after we met at Aglionby.”

Ronan raised his eyebrows. “Acquired? You make it sound like they snuck into your bedroom one night and stole you away.”

Adam chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “That’s a little dramatic, but not so far off. My parents weren’t....aren’t….” he trailed off and stared at the floor. He hadn’t talked about his parents in years, not since Gansey had infiltrated the Henry-Blue-Adam clique. Blue and Henry and Seondeok knew because they had been there; Gansey knew because it had eventually become impossible not to tell him. Adam hadn’t told anyone else because they hadn’t needed to know.

He remained lost in thought until Ronan gently bumped their shoulders together. “....Were massive assholes who didn’t deserve you?” He suggested quietly.

Adam let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “That’s what everyone tells me,” he said. “Seondeok was on the other side of the continent most of the time, but she was still an infinitely better parent.”

“That’s good,” Ronan said, awkward but sincere. 

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Eventually, Adam said, “So, Matthew-not-Matthew in Tir na nÓg. We haven’t learned anything about him, really.”

“Oh,” Ronan said. “I guess you’re right.” He took several deep breaths. “Why is he fucking around with Matthew’s face if Matthew hasn’t even been there? Why--” he shook his head. “I’m not even sure where to start.”

“Ok.” Adam said. “Ok. We know Matthew hasn’t been there, but obviously this….fairy? Knows something about him. Maybe about you. Is it possibly a prank? Fairies like to trick humans just for fun, right?”

“Sidhe _,”_ Ronan corrected, “the fairy folk are sidhe. I guess it could be just a practical joke, but it feels more sinister. Matthew’s been in the States since Dad died. It feels like the sidhe have been watching us for who knows how long. Like they’re waiting for something? I don’t know, it just feels like there’s more.”

“I haven’t learned much about sidhe,” Adam admitted.

“C’mon, man, you’re magic.”

“I know! It was always at the bottom of my priority list, I guess. Blue and Gansey would know more than me.” He paused, realizing what he’d just implied. “I mean, if you want to tell them.”

“You weren’t going to tell them?” Ronan looked confused.

Adam returned the look of confusion. “It’s your secret. You decide if you want to trust them with it.”

“They’re already friends with you and Henry.” Ronan shrugged. “I kinda assumed they know about magic and aren’t involved in shady stuff.”

“True, that’s just….a really big assumption,” Adam said slowly. “Blue’s family are psychics, and Gansey’s….” How did you explain Gansey? “I guess you could say Gansey’s a believer.”

Ronan had pulled his knees into his chest and his feet onto the couch. The couch looked distinctly too small for this, but Ronan had somehow managed it anyway. “Dad always told us,” he mumbled into his knees, “not to tell anyone about the doorway, not even to hint about it. So for a long time I thought it was a family secret. Then he was murdered, and it turned out he’d been running his mouth and some fairy market wankers figured it out.”

He pressed his forehead into his knees and went very still. Adam put a hand on his shoulder. “And you’ve kept following the rule?” He guessed. 

Ronan said something to his knees. Adam pulled gently on his shoulder until he lifted his head. “Can’t hear you,” he explained. He touched his left ear. “I’ve only got one working ear.”

“Your parents,” Ronan said, almost a hiss. Not a question.

Adam set his lips in a thin line, enough of an answer.

Ronan gave one stiff nod. “Yeah, I kept following the rule. For what, though? Not everyone is out to murder us. It’s….” he briefly pressed his forehead into his knees again before looking back up. “It would be easier, not being the only one who knows.”

How had Adam not recognized it before? He saw it clearly in Ronan’s eyes now; the aching loneliness of being the only one. Being _special, gifted, distinctive_ in a way that meant no one else really understood you. It had been Adam’s whole life before he met Henry. 

“It is easier,” he agreed softly. He paused. “I’d ask them to come over now, if you want, except they’re probably all extremely drunk.”

Ronan let his feet slide slowly back to the floor. When he looked back at Adam, he had a mischievous glint in his eye. “I always like to see what kind of nonsense I can convince a drunk person of. Do you think they’d believe I can ride Chainsaw like Gandalf on an eagle?”

“If they’re _extremely_ drunk--” Adam pulled his phone out of his pocket -- “I’d say you could maybe convince Gansey, but no one else. Ah, Henry texted like 20 minutes ago. He says they found a 24-hour diner? If you want to come.”

What Henry had actually texted was _FOUND ALL NT DINR BLU SEZ DNT B PARTAY PPR,_ along with a map pin for the diner.

“Is it Czerny’s?” Ronan asked, leaning over so he could see the map. “Oh yeah, it is. I’ll come.”

 _Ronan and I will join shortly_ , Adam sent back. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and followed Ronan to the door where they’d left jackets and shoes. Adam’s phone buzzed again as they stood in the bookshop entry so Ronan could lock up.

“They leave already?” Ronan asked as Adam checked his phone.

“You tell me.” Adam tilted the phone to give Ronan a better view of the incomprehensible string of emojis Henry had sent.

“Fireworks clown aubergine --” Ronan began. “You know what, I don’t want to know.”

“Good, because I doubt Henry could explain it either.” Adam followed Ronan down the path and back onto the main street. 

“It’s like five minutes this way,” Ronan said as he turned down the next side street.

It was probably even less than five minutes. The diner was wedged in an unpromising location between a convenience store and a pharmacy, but sported a broad green-and-white awning that was clearly meant to evoke an American diner. The door said _Czerny’s Diner_ in blocky green script. “Czerny,” Ronan called as the door thudded behind them, “We’re looking for three obnoxiously drunk Americans.”

“Takes one to know one,” Blue yelled from the table in the nearest corner.

“It….that would mean….I don’t think that makes sense, love,” Gansey said, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to make himself look more awake.

“Ronan!” A small, pale blond man burst through the door marked _kitchen_ . “Do I see you _socializing_? Has hell frozen too?”

“You’re a shit, Noah,” Ronan replied, sidestepping Noah’s tackle so his momentum sent him into the table. “I am perfectly capable of fucking civility.”

“I know you’re capable,” Noah said cheerily, pushing himself away from the table. “I’m just surprised to see you doing it. Oh!” he looked at Adam. “Sorry I didn’t notice your arrival sooner. Can I get you anything?”

“We ordered enough for everyone,” Henry interjected. He looked over the plates crammed onto the table. “Including you, I think. Wanna sit with us?”

Noah looked around the otherwise empty restaurant. “I mean, I was gonna clean the kitchen….”

“Sit down, Czerny,” Ronan said, sliding onto the bench next to Blue. “I need to tell you something.”

Henry looked up from cutting the crusts off a piece of French toast. “Oh! Are you telling us secrets? I’m all ears, and very good at keeping secrets,” he said, propping his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands.

Ronan gave him a sideways glance. “Don’t make me reconsider, Cheng.” Henry mimed zipping his lips. 

Ronan looked around the table. Everyone else was already looking expectantly at him. “Okay.” He launched into an explanation of everything: the doorway, Cabeswater, Tir na nÓg, Opal and Chainsaw.

Gansey interrupted with frequent questions. Most of these were along the lines of “why does that happen?” and most of the answers were along the lines of “I don’t fucking know, man.” Finally, Ronan came to their earlier visit to Cabeswater and encounter with the not-Matthew. 

“I knew you had some sort of magic hidden away!” Noah exclaimed once he’d finished.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ronan asked.

Noah shrugged. “It wasn’t my secret. I knew you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

“I did want to. I just.” Ronan scrubbed his hand over his face, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

Noah patted his shoulder. “It was a family secret, right? I get it. And you’re telling us now because you’re worried about Matthew…?”

Ronan nodded.

“Okay,” Blue said briskly. She was noticeably less tipsy than Gansey and Henry. “I guess Adam told you about us? That’s why you’re telling everyone?”

Ronan nodded again. He slumped down in the booth, like a puppet with its strings cut. “Actually,” Adam said, glancing at Ronan, “it turns out Seondeok helped the Lynches with some sort of security for the doorway. So we were already connected, but we just figured it out like an hour ago.”

“Ah!” Henry exclaimed. “That makes us almost like cousins!”

“God, no,” Ronan groaned. “It makes us not enemies.”

Blue ran her fingers through Henry’s hair to give back some of its original height; it was rather worse for the wear. “We’ll ask your mother about it when you're sober,” she said, presumably referring to the magical issues and not the proclaimed cousinship. She turned back to Ronan. “Um, I don’t think I know anything myself that might help you. We can ask my family, if that’s alright?”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, “I think Parrish mentioned that already.”

“I’ve got a decent collection of old texts on the subject,” Gansey said. “I’m not sure where to start, to be honest, but perhaps we can talk it over --” he yawned “-- after quite a bit of sleep.”

“Good plan,” Adam said. “I think we have time to come by tomorrow-- well, later today, if that’s alright?”

“We shall consult the itinerary,” Henry proclaimed. “Preferably also after sleep.”

“Yeah,” Ronan said. “Just text when you figure it out. Parrish, give me your phone.” When Ronan handed the phone back, he’d added his number as _RL tree emoji_.

* * *

Between the itinerary and Adam’s interviews, it was two days later when they actually found time to visit the bookshop again.

 _\--Looks like we’ll be free around dinnertime, Gansey suggests we could pick up some pizza?_ Adam texted.

_~bah_

It was a few minutes before Ronan texted again.

~ _Noah says he’ll bring burgers and shit_

_\--Works for us._

“I’ve been thinking,” Gansey said once they were all settled in one of the bookstore’s side rooms with their food, “The most common mythological trope regarding doppelgangers is probably changelings.”

“Fucking hell,” Ronan growled. “You don’t think my real brother’s been in Tir na nÓg his whole life?”

“Well, I--” Gansey stammered.

“The standard changeling legend wouldn’t make sense here,” Adam interrupted, leaning his shoulder briefly into Ronan’s. “I mean, usually people learn about the changeling because the person’s personality changes drastically, right?”

“Sure,” Ronan said, but he didn’t look any less unsettled.

“Also,” Blue added, “the fae age slower than humans, so since your Matthew ages at the normal rate, he’s probably actually yours.”

“Okay.” Ronan relaxed somewhat. “I guess that makes sense. But if the human’s here and the sidhe is there, that means there’s no changeling.”

Gansey recovered his train of thought. “Right, but maybe it’s a starting point for research. You want to know why a fae looks exactly like a human, and it seems unlikely he’s a wraith like a fetch would be, so changelings are the closest thing.”

“Okay.” Ronan considered. “I don’t know if I have any books focusing on changelings, so this could be some tedious research.”

“My offer still stands,” Gansey said.

“I think some of the books I have in the office might be the best place to start, actually….ah, _fuck_.”

They all looked at Ronan, waiting for an explanation.

“Generally,” Henry suggested, “one follows an unexpected fuck with a description of the fuckery.”

“Dude, what the hell?” Noah questioned.

Ronan rolled his eyes. “I think I understood the concept. Anyway, about half the books in the office are ones my dad left there, and _all_ the ones I’m thinking of are his. Like he was looking for information about changelings too.”

“Well,” Blue declared, “sounds like we have our starting point.”

Ronan left and returned several minutes later with a box of books. “Grab whatever, make yourself comfortable,” he said, setting the box down. 

Adam pulled _Dictionary of Irish Mythology_ from the box and moved to the side room with armchairs. Ronan claimed the other armchair shortly after, bringing with him a thick book with a title in Irish. 

“Bored already, Parrish?” Adam started and looked up from his phone as Ronan spoke.

“Taking notes,” he replied, “easy to send them to you this way.”

“Right,” Ronan said, “guess I should do that too. Um. Any chance you want to come back to Cabeswater with me tomorrow night? I want to see if we can find Matthew’s double again.”

“I may be prevented by the tyranny of the itinerary.” Adam quickly thought through their schedule; he didn’t want to abandon the plans his friends had made, but Ronan clearly didn’t want to confront his brother’s doppelganger alone. “Friday should work, though. I can pack up early and then come by.”

* * *

Adam started packing up as soon as they returned to the B&B late Friday afternoon. “Come on, Adam,” Henry complained when he joined him in their room. “Follow the bad example set by the rest of us and pack at the last possible minute. Help us waste our time with cards or video games.”

“Can’t,” Adam replied, moving from crouching to sitting on the floor next to his suitcase. “Ronan asked me to come back to Tir na nÓg with him.” 

“Ah,” Henry said, with an exaggerated eyebrow raise, “like a _date.”_

Adam sighed. “No, like he wants to find Matthew’s double again and doesn’t want to do that alone.”

“He could have invited the rest of us along, but did not. Ergo, date.”

“Or, he didn’t want a boisterous horde scaring whoever it is away. Not to mention Opal and Chainsaw.”

“Hurtful, but probably accurate,” Henry conceded. “I demand a full account on the plane tomorrow.”

Ronan was pacing the bookstore, from one corner to its diagonal, when Adam arrived. “Am I that late?” Adam joked.

“Nah, just.” Ronan lifted one shoulder and kept it up too long to properly be called a shrug. “You ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

Ronan wordlessly reached out and made a grasping motion on a seemingly-empty shelf, then lifted his arm overhead holding the silver branch.

They had only walked a few paces into Cabeswater when not-Matthew cautiously stepped from behind a tree. “Hey,” Ronan said, trying to keep his voice neutral. “You gonna explain things this time?”

“Some things,” the boy replied warily. “Some things aren’t mine to explain.”

Ronan sighed. “Let me guess, the reason you’re wearing my brother’s face is one of those things.”

“Ronan,” Adam interjected, stepping closer so that their shoulders were almost brushing. He turned to the boy. “Maybe we can start with your name?”

The boy looked more at ease now. “Yes,” he said. “I’m Mochta.”

“Sounds an awful lot like Matthew,” Ronan muttered.

The boy shrugged. “It works the same way for us as for humans, you know. My mother named me.”

“Can you tell us about your parents?” Adam suggested.

“Hmm,” Mochta said. He looked cautious again. “They’d look human, to you.” He paused for a long while. “I think that’s all I’ll say.”

Ronan wore a glare that could’ve melted an entire glacier. “How about you tell me _this._ Do we have the same mother?”

Mochta looked alarmed now, but he answered. “No.”

“How about the same father?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Mochta took a large step back.

Ronan stepped closer to the nearest tree so he could slam his fists into it, followed by -- more gently, thankfully -- his forehead. He muttered something unintelligible before turning to face them again. “You realize that’s a yes,” he snarled.

Mochta took another step back. “I _can’t_ tell you. Not won’t.”

“Níl! Níl! Ní!” Opal’s voice yelled. She appeared in the clearing and grabbed Ronan’s forearm with both hands as she came to a stop.

“Not _what_ , Opal?” Ronan asked, frustrated.

“He’s not. Mochta isn’t.” Opal knocked her head against Ronan’s arm. “It’s not his fault.”

Adam got on his knees next to her. “What isn’t his fault?”

Opal shook her head furiously. “Can’t tell!”

“Oh, fucking grand,” Ronan grumbled. “No one’s allowed to tell, apparently.”

“So there’s a secret, Opal?” Adam guessed. “An important secret?”

Opal didn’t respond with words, but she did stop shaking her head.

Adam looked up at Ronan. “Well. Sounds like it’s time for more research.” The group effort hadn’t yielded much that seemed likely to be useful.

“Wait,” Ronan called. Mochta turned at the edge of the clearing; he’d almost left without them noticing. “Can you say how old you are?”

Mochta pursed his lips. 

Ronan nodded, as if this were a confirmation. “Let me guess, eighteen?” Mochta gave one quick nod before turning and disappearing.

“What the fuck what the fuck…” Ronan repeated, apparently to himself, over and over as they walked back into the bookstore. He dropped the branch on its shelf -- it vanished -- and kept walking towards the house, still muttering to himself but occasionally varying the profanities.

Adam trailed behind. He wasn’t sure if Ronan wanted him there, but he didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.

Ronan turned as he opened the door. “When do you need to leave? I know you have an early flight.”

Adam checked the time. It was somehow past 11, even though he’d come over right after dinner; time seemed to have gone strange while they were in Cabeswater. He also had a text from Henry. “Apparently we’re leaving for the airport at 4, so I need to leave here by then.”

Ronan kicked one boot, then the other, toward the boot tray by the door. They thudded against the wall. “Sleep is a thing, Parrish. Don’t be a martyr.”

“I can sleep on the plane,” Adam defended, despite never once having accomplished this feat. “And I’m staying because I want to.”

Ronan gave a terse nod and threw himself onto the loveseat, one leg on the cushions, one hanging off. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Hmm,” Adam responded. He pushed Ronan’s leg to the floor and sat on the other end of the loveseat. “Well, apparently you have a half-sidhe half-brother.”

“Do _not_ ask me how I feel about that,” Ronan said, dragging himself up to a mostly-upright position in the corner of the couch.

One corner of Adam’s mouth quirked up. “I wasn’t going to, but since you’re so defensive about it, maybe you need to be asked.”

Ronan gave him a half-hearted scowl. “He’s not only my half-brother, but apparently the exact same age as my real brother.”

“Not necessarily exactly the same,” Adam pointed out.

“Okay, well.” Ronan thought. “Matthew’s birthday is in October, so there’s at most 5 months’ difference. The _point_ is, apparently my dad was cheating with some sidhe woman while my mom was pregnant with Matthew.”

“I don’t think that’s the secret,” Adam said, “since they more or less told us that.”

Ronan’s brow crinkled in confusion. “The sec-- oh. No.” He sat up, retrieved a set of coasters from the coffee table, and began flicking them across the room like frisbees. “I’m just wondering when I’ll stop learning about new--” he flicked the final coaster with an edge of spite. It made a _clonk_ sound against the far wall. “-- _questionable_ things my dad did.”

“I see,” Adam said. He waited, but Ronan didn’t add anything else. “Should we discuss your feelings about that instead of the secret?”

“Nah,” Ronan replied, falling back onto the couch. “I threw all my feelings over there.” He waved an arm towards the coasters.

“You’ll have to pick them up sometime. Weird metaphor, by the way.” 

“Less metaphor, more kinetic engagement with my internal turmoil.”

Adam gave him his best dead-eyed stare. “Pretty sure that was utter bullshit.”

“Yup.” Ronan sat up and leaned his elbows on his thighs. “I’m….not really sure we have anything to go on for the secret. Guess I’ll have to ask Declan.” He groaned theatrically. “He’s the one most likely to know more, if anyone does.”

“Okay.” 

Ronan gave him a bleak smile. “I’ll let you know if I find anything. Your giant nerd brain should be able to figure things out.”

“My giant nerd brain will do its best.” Adam pulled out his phone and watched the time flick over to 12:01. He stood up. “Sorry, but, I really should walk back soon if I’m gonna get a few hours of sleep before we leave.”

“You don’t have to,” Ronan said. “There’s a spare bedroom here.”

“Ten extra minutes to sleep?” Adam interrupted himself with a yawn. “I’ll take it.”

Adam felt as if he had barely dropped off to sleep when his alarm rang. No, it was stil five minutes to his alarm. Henry was calling. Adam dragged himself up to sit on the edge of the bed and accepted the call.

“Got your text,” Henry greeted, entirely too cheerful for the hour. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything exciting.”

“Yes,” Adam grumbled, “My last few minutes of sleep. In the spare bedroom, before you ask.”

Henry made a noise that was probably supposed to be a _tsk_. “Last night in town, Adam! ‘My handsome suitor let me crash in his spare bedroom’ is not the hot gossip I expected from you. But I shall excoriate you further once we’re in the air. Expect us parked outside the bookshop in about 15 minutes.”

Adam pulled on his jeans and returned his wallet and phone to their pockets. It felt as if he were forgetting something, but he only needed to grab his shoes and jacket on the way out the door. He fumbled his way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Ronan appeared in the doorway as he was drinking it. The baggy tank he wore gave Adam a glimpse of the full extent of his tattoo; hooks and claws and gentle swirls peeked out at the torn edges of the armholes. “Trying to sneak away?” he accused, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Didn’t want to wake you.” Adam set the glass down and turned to lean his back against the counter.

“That’s bullshit,” Ronan said gently. He crossed the kitchen in two quick strides and wrapped his arms tightly around Adam. Adam stilled in surprise for an instant before reciprocating the hug.

Ronan let go, but stayed close enough that Adam could feel his breath as he spoke. “Text me when you get home.”

Adam gave him a small smile. “Do you even know what time that will be here?”

“Don’t care.” Ronan squeezed his forearm briefly. “C’mon, I’ll have to unlock the door for you.”

Adam collected his shoes and jacket. They walked quietly to the bookshop’s front door. “I’ll keep you posted on what we find out,” Adam promised, gesturing to the doorway to Tir na nÓg.

“You better.” Ronan had unlocked the door. They looked at each other. There seemed to be nothing else to say.

A car horn blared outside. 

“That’ll be them.” Adam opened the door and stepped out, but looked back at Ronan.

“Take care,” Ronan said. Adam could feel his eyes on him as he walked out to the car.

* * *

_Niall and Aurora guessed nothing of the leannán sí’s nighttime visit, and they passed 10 happy years together. Aurora bore a son, Declan, thoughtful and intelligent and resolute; and another son, Ronan, fiery and imaginative and loyal. She was with child for the third time when the fairy lady hit upon her plan of revenge._

_Aurora had been sickly throughout her pregnancy, most days rising from bed for only as long as it took to prepare the most basic of meals for her husband and sons. Niall tended to her gently, but the leannán sí was sure he sorely missed the wifely duties Aurora was too unwell to perform. So one day, while Niall tended his bookshop, the fairy lady made herself to appear in Aurora’s likeness, and glided through the back door of the bookshop._

_Niall was overjoyed to see Aurora walking about and looking well after so many days abed. And so he did not question her when the leannán sí drew him into the wood abaft the bookshop and made love to him._

_In the fullness of time, Aurora bore a third son, Matthew, sunny and even-tempered and friendly. And the fairy lady also bore a son, the exact likeness of Matthew in every regard, though neither Niall nor Aurora nor any of their three sons suspected._

_Now, the leannán sí knew that Niall Lynch was wiser in the ways of the fair folk than any other person then living. And so she knew that he would be on his guard against changelings. But the leannán sí thought to exploit Niall’s knowledge of the changeling lore, and in this way exact her revenge._

  
  



	3. Tá craiceann na fírinne air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam walks into Fox Way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were wondering how Adam joined Henry and Seondeok's family - I wrote a prequel to this fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498406).

_ - _ _ On the way to talk w/ Blue’s family _

_ -Will send you any questions they have, if you’ll be around? _

Adam dropped his phone back into the door pocket. Henry glanced over from the driver’s seat. Adam could see he desperately wanted to comment, but Blue was asleep in the back seat after pulling late nights all week to finish a project, and they had an unspoken agreement to avoid waking her.

_ ~i’m always around. update me whenever u can _

Ronan claimed to hate his phone, but his behavior told a different story. The only times Ronan did not answer Adam’s texts within a few minutes were when he was in Cabeswater. And one occasion when it took almost a full day before he replied:  _ sorry, let phone die bc dec was being annoying. _

They pulled up in front of Fox Way. “Blueee-berry,” Henry sing-songed quietly. Blue reacted instinctively, which was to say that she kicked the side of her foot against the back of Henry’s seat without showing any other sign of wakefulness.

Adam rolled his eyes at Henry, got out of the car, and closed the door. Blue roused immediately. “Ugh,” she said, exiting surprisingly quickly and coming to slump against Adam. “My bedroom is calling.” Adam dropped his arm across her shoulders and steered them to the door.

Persephone opened the door just as they reached it. “Adam,” she said. “You’re finally going to figure things out.”

It was impossible to tell whether this was a prediction or a command. With Persephone, the line between the two was always blurry. “That’s the idea,” Adam replied, a plausible response for either. He left Blue in Maura’s care and followed Persephone into the reading room.

Calla was already installed on the couch there. “So,” she said without preamble, “a door into fairy and a half-fae half-brother.”

“That’s the summary.” Adam sat in a chair across the table from Calla. Persephone floated a circuit around the room before taking a seat on the armrest at the other end of the couch. 

“It’s a thin place, but that much is obvious.” Calla absentmindedly shuffled her tarot cards. “There are plenty of stories about fairies taking human lovers, or tricking them.” She looked at Adam. “That part is as straightforward as magic gets. What are we missing?”

“They said it was a secret. The half-brother and…” What was Opal? “...and Opal. It’s a secret they can’t talk about.”

“Well, fairies aren’t  _ nice _ ,” Calla said. “If one of them used their magic to prevent humans from talking about something they’d done, I can’t say it would surprise me.”

“What would be surprising,” Persephone added, “is preventing other sidhe from talking about it. Either the sidhe who did it is very powerful, or there is some sort of bargain involved.”

“Or both,” Calla offered.

“Ever the pessimist, Calla.” Persephone turned back to Adam. “Unfortunately, the person most likely to know about a bargain is dead.”

“Yes,” Adam replied. “Ronan said he and his brother have both been through all the records their dad left that might be relevant, but I guess a fairy bargain wouldn’t be the kind of thing you write down”.

“What does their mother say?” Maura asked, as she came in and sat down.

How had Adam not noticed that Ronan never mentioned their mother? No, that wasn’t quite right -- he’d said that Niall must have cheated on her while she was pregnant with Matthew. But even that was more about Niall than his wife.

“I’ll ask,” Adam said. He stared at his phone for a while before deciding what to send. There must be a reason Ronan hadn’t talked about his mother. She wasn’t dead, Adam was pretty sure, but that eliminated only one of the numerous tragedies he could imagine. In the end, Adam decided not to mention her yet.

_ -The psychics say a bargain with the sidhe is likely what makes the secret secret. Probably with Mochta’s mother? _

“While we’re waiting,” Persephone began serenely. She was either unaware of Adam’s internal conflict or, more likely, choosing to ignore it. “You mentioned someone named Opal?”

“Yeah. Apparently she guards the doorway from that side. She’s -- a faun? Kind of?”

“Of course,” Persephone said. “The glaistig. We’ve met, but I didn’t get her name.”

“I didn’t know you’d been to Ireland,” Maura said.

Persephone  _ tsk _ ed at Maura. “I was scrying, of course.” Maura and Calla gave her synchronized frowns. Adam tuned out their lecture about untethered scrying while he answered Ronan’s text.

_ ~great, so he’s in on whatever it is _

_ -I doubt he was party to a bargain made when he was a literal infant _

_ ~are we sure that’s when it was? i’ll ask dec and see if it jogs any memories _

_ -Would your mother know anything? _

Adam shook his head to let the women know he didn’t have anything. He wanted to finish the previously-derailed line of conversation. “You’ve met Opal. Was she the one who told you…?”

“She told me several things. You’ll have to specify.”

“Told you what you told me before we left. That I was going to meet someone and something.”

“Mmm. No. Not directly.” Persephone tilted her to one side, as if listening to something only she could hear. Maybe she was. “Her forest was looking for you.”

“It greeted me,” Adam told her. “Ronan says it talks to him, too.”

“Some forests are just forests. Some forests are...more.”

_ ~used to, probably _

_ ~she has amnesia. started right after dad died _

_ -I’m sorry. _

“Adam?” Maura asked. He realized he’d been zoning out, trying to think of better condolences to offer even though he knew Ronan didn’t want them.

“His mom has amnesia.”

Calla leaned forward. “Did it start after his father died?”

“Right after,” Adam confirmed.

The women exchanged a look. “Let me guess,” Adam said, “that’s somehow connected to a fairy bargain too?”

“The same bargain.” Persephone paused. “I should think. Ask Opal how many secrets-- no, ask her how many bargains there are. There are always more secrets.”

* * *

Adam sprawled on an air mattress in the Fox Way attic, thinking. Conversation and laughter drifted faintly up. It was almost midnight, which on a typical Fox Way Friday night meant the socializing would continue for a couple hours at least, but Adam wasn’t in a social mood. There was a connection between Ronan’s mother and Mochta’s as surely as there was a connection between the amnesia and the presumed fairy bargain; Adam could feel the shape of the connection, but couldn’t articulate what it was. It made him uneasy.

Adam wondered what time Ronan would wake up; it hadn’t felt right to talk further about his mother’s amnesia over text. 

Well, there was one way to find out.

_ -Text me when you’re up _

It wasn’t a very productive thinking session. Adam moved on to what Persephone had told him about Opal and Cabeswater. It didn’t seem possible that an ancient magical forest -- a more-than-a-forest, according to Persephone -- thought he was its magician. What even was a forest’s magician? Was Cabeswater going to be upset when Adam inevitably didn’t move to Ireland? Could he communicate with it from here, from anywhere? Well, Persephone had scryed there, so it stood to reason that he could too, though it wasn’t the safest of options.

This was only marginally more productive.

_ ~up _

_ -Can I call? _

_ ~fuck fones _

_ -You’ve mentioned. But it’s not like I can walk over and talk to you _

_ ~ominous _

_ ~whatever you have to say, i promise i’ve gotten worse texts _

_ -Why do I get the impression that’s a low bar _

_ -Actually _

_ -I could meet you in Cabeswater? _

_ ~so you can’t walk here but you can walk to Cabeswater _

_ ~i see how it is. you only like me for my magical forest _

_ -Hey, it’s the one who was looking for me _

_ -I should be able to scry in since it’s on the ley line. I won’t be physically there _

_ ~dunno what that means but i guess i’m about to find out. see you in Cabeswater? _

_ -Yeah, just give me a couple minutes. _

Adam stood to go find someone to anchor his scrying. There was a knock on the door.

“Why are you knocking?” He called, because knocking was a rare courtesy at Fox Way.

“Seph says don’t start scrying without us,” Blue said as she opened the door. “She’s bringing the stuff in a minute.”

Persephone appeared in the doorway shortly, arms full of Fox Way’s largest scrying bowl and a truly unnecessary number of candles. “It’s a long way,” she said, seemingly in response to Adam’s quizzical look at the excessive scrying supplies. “But with Blue’s help I can get you there quickly, since I’ve been before.”

“Right,” Adam said. “Okay.”

Persephone gave him a rare knowing smile; rare because it was the ordinary kind of knowing, rather than the mystical kind you usually got from Persephone. “Oh, I’ll leave once we’ve gotten you there. I’d be a horrible chaperone.”

Blue had quickly set up a scrying spot in the meantime. Adam and Persephone settled in on either side of the bowl and gave Blue their hands.

Adam quickly found himself in the familiar Virginia forest that he usually scryed into. Persephone’s form popped up next to him a second later.

Something whispered  _ Draíodóir,  _ barely audible.

“I think I hear Cabeswater,” Adam told Persephone.

She was slowly rotating with her eyes closed. “From that way, I think?” Persephone opened her eyes and pointed.

Adam heard the whisper again. “Yeah, I think so too.”

Persephone grabbed his hand and pulled them both in that direction. They zipped past blurry landscapes and seascapes, like incorporeal travel by seven league boots.

“Here we are,” Persephone said, as Adam stumbled into the nearest tree trunk. He knew how to travel like this, but he didn’t think he’d ever be as nonchalant about it as Persephone. “Can you find your way to Ronan from here?”

Adam looked around. From here he could just see the yews that formed the doorway. “Yeah, it’s right there.” 

Persephone nodded and disappeared. Adam headed toward the yews, more slowly than he’d just been travelling with Persephone. When he saw Ronan he slowed even more, to something close to a normal walking speed.

“Hey,” he said. 

Ronan frowned. “Are you a fucking ghost?” He stepped forward and shoved at Adam’s shoulder, then stumbled as his hand passed through. “Oh, you are.”

Adam snorted at him. “Don’t worry, I still have a body. Blue’s there to make sure I come back to it.”

Ronan frowned more deeply. “Is this dangerous? Didn’t know you missed my face that much.”

“Your face is a bonus.” Adam took a deep breath. “There’s more about your mom.”

Ronan went very still and looked to the side. “Hit me with it,” he said. He sounded like he expected physical pain.

“They think her amnesia might be connected to the bargain. The one that forces Opal and Mochta to keep whatever it is secret.”

Ronan did not look back at Adam while he listened. “Guess the timing makes sense,” he said in a strangled voice. “Fuck. What the  _ fuck _ was dad doing?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Adam said softly. 

Ronan looked back and made a skeptical noise at him.

“We will. I’m not gonna quit look--” Adam broke off as he felt the sensation of something crashing through his leg.

“ _ Ugh _ .” Opal was sprawled on the ground a few feet away. “Why aren’t you real?”

“I am,” Adam said, suppressing his smile, “My body just isn’t here right now.”

Ronan scoffed at her. “Did you not see how he’s transparent?”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

“Didn’t check,” Opal said, standing up. “You were supposed to bring your body with you.”

Adam ignored this, because how did you even answer? “Opal,” he said instead. “I have a question for you. The things you have to keep secret from us -- that’s because of a fairy bargain, right?”

Opal eyeballed him. It was a very good eyeballing, eerily long and unblinking. Adam would’ve run from it if he’d thought he was unwelcome. Finally, she nodded her head slowly.

Adam nodded back. “Can you tell me if there’s more than one bargain?”

“ _ Obviously, _ ” Opal said, gesturing at the doorway.

“There’s a bargain about guarding the doorway,” Ronan translated. “That one’s fucking ancient though.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it soon,” Adam said. “I should go for now, before Blue has to pull me back.”

“Wait,” Ronan said. “I’m coming to New York for Matty’s graduation soon. Well, in like a month. I know Boston isn’t all that close, but if you have time…” he left the rest unspoken.

Adam’s heart gave one loud, treacherous thump. Surely it had only echoed in his own ears, considering his physical heart wasn’t here. “That’s after I graduate,” he said, “I’ll have plenty of time.” 

Ronan nodded. “I’ll see you.” He turned and passed through the doorway. Adam reconnected with his body and pulled himself back to it.

* * *

Adam had not expected to receive a letter saying he had been awarded a fully-funded fellowship to NUI Galway, so he was pleasantly surprised. Ronan, apparently, wasn’t. 

~ _ i told you _

- _ You did not, in fact, tell me. I would have remembered. _

~ _ it was implied _

_ ~how many times did i call u a nerd _

_ -Right, can’t imagine how I missed that _

When Adam sat down to decide between Galway and the University of Chicago, his other fellowship offer, he was not all that surprised to find that his subconscious had apparently already made the decision without apprising him.

_ ~this is somehow different from what u told me a few weeks ago….? _

_ -That’s when I got the fellowship award. I just accepted it today _

_ ~deciding took you fucking weeks?  _

_ ~i’m insulted on Ireland’s behalf _

Time compressed and dragged at the same time. Graduation came; Seondeok and the Fox Way ladies and the Ganseys threw separate parties celebrating Adam and Henry and Gansey and Blue. Apparently the only thing they agreed upon when it came to graduation parties was that one was not enough.

Adam found himself with more free time than he’d ever had in his life. His primary job at the campus library ended with graduation. His unofficial and probably, technically, illegal job tracking down magical artifacts was put on hold by Seondeok. She stopped Henry from working, too.

“If someone starts tracking your movements,” she explained, “there’s a trail straight to the Lynches. We can’t risk that, not after all the work I did to hide them. And worst case scenario they decide to go after you, too.”

“What good would the doorway do anyone else, anyway?” Adam asked. “It’s not like you can get very far without permission from both sides.”

“Oh, there are ways. Brute force can accomplish a lot, unfortunately. Even in faerie.” Seondeok hid her sorrow well but not completely, not from Henry and Adam. Unpleasant memories clearly lurked behind her statement, but she didn’t expound.

“So,” Henry surmised, “there’s a long, sad story that you aren’t telling us.”

“Yes. And no, I won’t tell you. It’s the Lynches’ story.”

They dropped the subject. Adam asked Ronan about it later.

_ ~we have a lot of sad stories, parrish. we’re an entire fucking library of Shakespearian tragedy _

_ ~most of those are like family legends though. don’t know how much is true _

_ ~and no idea which one sd is talking about. i’ll think about it  _

Adam found himself spending more and more time in Gansey’s graduate student office, which he’d been allowed to move into early. He and Gansey worked their way through Gansey’s library of Celtic mythology and history. The task grew instead of shrinking, since Gansey kept tracking down more references. There were sources from the university library he hadn’t come across before; articles he found on JSTOR; books he ordered from antiquarians around the world.

Most of it, in Adam’s opinion, was interesting but irrelevant to Ronan’s situation. He avoided sharing this opinion with Gansey, who was always interrupting his own reading to make notes of things he wanted to explore further in his PhD research. Adam wouldn’t begrudge Gansey that their work was useful to him. He just wished it would also turn up something useful for Ronan.

“Humor me,” Gansey said. Adam looked up and raised one eyebrow at him. “I know we’ve discussed changelings  _ ad nauseum _ , but I want to talk through something.”

Adam nodded, so he continued. “I was wondering, broadly speaking, if some changelings were actually just cranky human babies.”

“Makes sense, from what I know about babies. You think they never actually took Matthew?”

“Maybe not. Maybe Mochta’s mother saw an opportunity and took it.”

“Hmm,” Adam said. “I think that’s overly generous of you.”

“How so?”

“Considering Niall is Mochta’s father, I suspect his mother wanted to force Niall into the bargain, whatever it is. So, cranky baby spell?”

“You suspicious bastard,” Gansey said, admiringly. “If I’m ever harassed by faeries, you’ll be the first person I consult.”

“Thanks,” Adam said dryly. “I was actually mostly saying your hypothesis makes sense. We can ask Ronan if he remembers anything, but he would’ve only been four or so.”

“Right.” Gansey deflated. “That was a bit off-topic, now that I think about it. We need to know what the bargain was, not why the Lynches made it.”

“Any lead helps,” Adam told him. “But maybe we should switch topics for a bit. What about Cabeswater? Seph said it’s more than a forest.”

“Oh!” Gansey smacked his forehead. He’d forgotten he was wearing his glasses; fortunately it was a gentle smack. He straightened his glasses. “Of course. There’s so much lore about magic forests. I have a whole book about it somewhere, actually.” He wandered over to the bookshelves and began searching.

He returned a few minutes later with a thin hardcover bound in cracked leather. “I seem to have misremembered.” He handed the book to Adam. “It’s not about forests, but the magical properties of individual tree species. Might be worth looking at, anyway?”

“Well,” Adam said, “Cabeswater has an entire forest’s worth of tree species. Maybe it has lots of types of tree magic.”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious, or saying that to make me feel better.”

“Little of A, little of B. Won’t know until I read it.” Adam paused. “Ronan probably knows more about Cabeswater’s magic than about sidhe bargains. I’ve been meaning to ask him about it.”

“Excusing yourself to communicate?” Gansey mimed a texting motion.

“No. I should excuse myself soon, though. Henry asked earlier if we’d moved in here without telling him.” Henry’s text had included seemingly every variation of a sad emoji he could find, including a couple Adam had never seen before. Gansey didn’t need to know that detail.

“We have been spending quite a lot of time on this,” Gansey agreed. “Perhaps we should take a break this weekend. We could all go on an excursion of some sort.”

“Ah.” Adam grimaced. “This weekend is actually when Ronan will be in New York.”

“A perfect excuse!” Gansey said. “I mean, we wouldn’t all impose on the Lynches, of course. But the rest of us could make touristy plans and you could join whenever you’re able.”

“Maybe.”

* * *

_ The leannán sí once again snuck into Niall’s and Aurora’s house of a night. She spelled Matthew, who until that time had been a happy, content baby, so that he became dolorous and fractious, scarce able to sleep for more than an hour at a stretch. Niall and Aurora consulted doctors from one end of the county to another, desperate to have their jolly baby back. Finally, they consulted the old midwife, who said: sure, an’ he must be a changeling now, musn’ he? _

_ Niall bethought himself of all the changeling tales he knew, and he thought that the old midwife had hit upon the truth of it. Then, for the first time in 10 years, he thought of his leannán sí, and he judged that he knew what had happened. Distraught, he told Aurora all the tale of his dalliance with the fairy lady. And Aurora forgave him in full, for after all, it had all transpired before their courtship. She only cared, Aurora told him, that they discovered how to regain their son. _

_ So Niall went to the fairy-mound, and beseeched the leannán sí to come forth and contend with him. She came, and they disputed hotly for many hours; for the fairy lady would be content with nothing less than Niall taking her into his house, and leaving Aurora. But Niall wanted Matthew returned to him, and his family left intact. Neither would be satisfied with a bargain that yielded anything to the other. Finally, the leannán sí told Niall to return to his wife, and to relay to her all their argument. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next are pretty talk-y, but I promise there's more action coming!


	4. Aithníonn ciaróg ciaróg eile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam meets the Lynches. Declan tells a story.

Because Gansey was Gansey, he treated Adam’s  _ maybe _ as a  _ yes. _ So all four of them boarded the train to New York City Friday afternoon. Adam was somewhat relieved, actually; as much as he wanted to see Ronan again, he’d worried that he would be intruding on the family graduation celebration. 

It also helped that Gansey had found a family suite in a hotel only a 5-minute walk from the Lynches’ apartment, so Adam could easily leave his bag there with the others. As he walked, Adam called Ronan to let him into the apartment building.

“You know there’s this….buzzer thing,” Ronan said, gesturing at said thing.

“Phone seemed easier.” Adam stepped into the building’s lobby and looked around. It was sleek and modern, with a marbled floor and front desk and dark walls sparsely populated with abstract art.

“Fucking pretentious, I know,” Ronan said. “Fair warning, Declan’s also fucking pretentious, but he means well.” He paused and grimaced. “Usually.” 

Ronan threw an arm around Adam’s shoulders and steered him towards the elevator. “Matthew’s very excited to meet you even though I warned him you’re a nerd.” He smacked an elevator button with his free hand. “And you know about mum’s amnesia. Her short term memory’s usually fine, but if you ask her anything about before dad died, she just gets confused and sad.”

“I won’t ask.” More quietly, Adam added, “She remembers you?”

“Yeah, she remembers us.” Ronan’s fingers dug into Adam’s shoulder. “And dad. But she doesn’t have many….concrete memories of him? She remembers him without remembering things she did with him. It’s fucking weird.”

“Damn,” Adam said. The elevator stopped.

“Yeah,” Ronan agreed. “And her health isn’t great overall, either. So we’re planning to wait to talk about magic shit until after she goes to bed, if you don’t mind staying late.”

Adam managed not to scoff at this. He wouldn’t be here if he minded. “That’s good with me,” he said.

Ronan dropped his arm from Adam’s shoulders as they approached the apartment door. He turned the doorknob, then scowled at it and gave the door two hard raps.

The door was opened immediately by a Ronan look-alike stuffed into business casual. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding very sorry. “Wasn’t sure how long you’d be.”

“I didn’t lock it since I knew you were here,” Ronan said, “Jesus.”

His brother gave him a long-suffering look. “This is a city,” he said. “You should keep the door locked all the time. Are you going to introduce us?”

“As you’ve probably guessed,” Ronan said, waving his arm in an exaggerated motion towards Adam, “This is Adam. Adam, Declan.”

Despite Ronan’s warning, Adam didn’t find Declan’s apartment all that pretentious. In some ways it was as blandly modern as the building’s lobby: laminate wood floors, solid grey rugs, apartment-white walls. But family photos hung on the walls alongside the generic art, and the sofas looked comfortable and lived-in.

“Pleased to meet you, Adam,” Declan said, shaking his hand. “I promise I’m only half as boring as Ronan says I am.”

“He’s an  _ accountant _ ,” Ronan stage-whispered.

Adam opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a door burst open near the front of the hallway and the third Lynch brother bounded over to them.

“Adam!” he exclaimed, as if greeting an old friend. “I’m really glad you’re here!” Matthew skipped the handshake and went in for a hug. It didn’t last long because Adam was too shocked by the contrast between Matthew and his brothers to return it.

“Sorry,” Matthew said, sounding unphased, “I’m just really excited to meet you. We need to be friends because Ronan’s been talking about you for months. Not, like, a lot,” he added, noticing Adam’s surprise, “but Ronan doesn’t talk about people, so--”

“Chill, Matty, God,” Ronan said, more fond than annoyed. “You don’t have to make friends instantly.”

“Says you,” Matthew retorted cheerfully. To Adam, he added, “Declan and Ronan have a quota of, like, two friends each.”

“I do not have a  _ quota _ ,” Declan said.

“Two is generous,” Ronan said.

“Ronan just says he met you in the bookshop,” Matthew continued as though his brothers hadn’t responded, “So you’ll have to tell me--”

He was interrupted by a pointed throat-clearing from the kitchen. “Were any of you planning to introduce our guest to your mother?” A quiet voice asked.

Declan and Matthew both turned sideways to look at her as Aurora Lynch spoke, giving Adam a view of the kitchen. Aurora was blond like Matthew and pale-skinned like Ronan, except that her paleness suggested illness more than Celticness. Adam could sense even without having seen a photo of Aurora from  _ before _ that she was a ghost of herself.

“Sorry, Mam,” Ronan said. He actually looked abashed as he led Adam the short distance from the entry to the kitchen.

Aurora sat at the counter preparing a salad. “Lovely to meet you, Adam,” she said, holding a hand out then quickly withdrawing it. “Excuse me, I’m afraid my hands are a bit damp and vegetable-y.”

“I thought Declan was doing that,” Ronan said with a frown.

“Oh, he did most of it.” Ronan continued to frown. “Don’t fuss about me, love,” Aurora scolded him gently. “I’m perfectly capable of slicing a few vegetables.”

Ronan’s mouth twitched before settling into something close to his usual expression. “Yeah, of course. Are we ready to eat?”

They were. Adam hung back until all the Lynches had taken their places at the table, then found himself seated between Ronan and Aurora. Food was passed, grace was said, and Matthew launched immediately into both his dinner and conversation.

“Ronan says you’re going to school with me next year, Adam,” he said around a mouthful of lasagna.

Adam paused with his fork almost to his mouth. “Yeah? I think Ronan forgot to mention you’re going to school there.”

“Oops,” Ronan said, unrepentant. “Yeah, Matty will be living with me. Hope you can put up with him when you visit.”

Adam laughed, since that was the only possible response to the idea that anyone would feel they were  _ putting up with _ Matthew Lynch. “I think I’ll manage. What are you studying, Matthew?”

Matthew shrugged. “Haven’t figured it out yet. I just knew I wanted to go to Galway.” He shrugged again, looking uncharacteristically serious. “We moved here when I was 11, so I feel like I’ve forgotten a lot.”

“You’ll remember once you’re back,” Ronan said, before Adam could formulate a response. 

“Right!” Matthew said, returning to cheerfulness. “That’s what I was trying to say.”

The conversation turned to the brothers’ memories of places and events from before Niall died. Adam noticed the sad, faraway look forming on Aurora’s face. Declan elbowed Matthew -- not very gently -- and moved his eyes towards Aurora in an exaggerated motion. Matthew did the same to Ronan, and conversation stopped suddenly.

“So, Adam,” Declan said into the silence, “where will you be living in Galway?”

“I don’t know yet, actually,” Adam replied. “I’ll be flying over a couple weeks before school starts, so I was planning to look then. I’m not very comfortable with the idea of renting a place sight unseen.”

“Hmm.” Declan sent a pointed look towards Ronan. “I guess Ronan hasn’t mentioned that I’ve been trying to convince him to rent a room or two in our house?”

“I thought you were  _ off my back _ about that,” Ronan said, sharpening his words to match Declan’s look. “Since Matty’s moving in.”

“Matthew obviously doesn’t count as a renter. I thought maybe you’d be more amenable to the idea if it was someone you knew.”

Ronan scowled. It was directed mainly at Declan, Adam guessed, but he couldn’t help wondering whether Ronan was also uneasy about the prospect of living with Adam. Or maybe about the prospect of having non-family living in his family home.

His response didn’t match the scowl, though. “Maybe. Maybe you should be asking Adam if he’d be okay with living with me  _ and _ Matty.”

Declan turned back to Adam. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out that Ronan’s a massive pain in the ass. Matty isn’t, but he  _ is  _ damn messy.”

“I’m getting better!” Matthew protested.

“I’ve probably lived with worse,” Adam said, giving him a small smile. “I can’t imagine it would be a problem.”

Declan and Adam talked over the logistics. Ronan didn’t comment, except about which room Adam would get -- “obviously yours, Declan, it’s the only one left.” At this, Declan gave him a look that clearly had a whole history behind it, but he agreed Adam could rent his former bedroom.

“I’ll look into the going rental rates tomorrow,” Declan said, “Since I’m sure Ronan hasn’t.”

“Parrish,” Ronan said, “Last chance to reconsider. You’d be stuck with us.”

“You’d be stuck with me. Fair trade.”

* * *

After dinner, they stuck to lighter topics and card games for Aurora’s sake. As enjoyable as it was, Adam was eager to discuss the sidhe bargain, and especially Cabeswater’s magic; he hadn’t had a chance to ask Ronan about it yet..

Eventually, Aurora excused herself to go to bed. “Please, don’t feel you’re intruding,” she told Adam. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Have one of the boys make up the sleeper sofa if it gets too late.” 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Adam said. “We’re staying just a few blocks away though.” Aurora smiled and nodded at him as she left the living room.

Ronan turned to Adam, eyebrows raised. “We?”

“Oh, yeah.” Adam had barely talked with Ronan since the others had started making plans. “Gansey’s been wanting to drag everyone to the city for a weekend, and they decided me coming was a good excuse. So the gang’s all here.”

“They could’ve come for dinner,” Ronan said. “Guess that’s not fucking touristy enough, though.”

Adam snorted. “Yeah. Last I heard they were looking for last-minute Broadway tickets. Knowing Gansey, he’ll probably end up scoring front row seats to  _ Hamilton _ or something.”

“Well, tell them to clear their schedules for tomorrow night. We’re getting takeout and eating it on the roof.”

_ “Ronan,” _ Declan said. 

“Your key fits the door to the roof,” Ronan argued. “That means we’re allowed up there.”

“You never told me we could get on the roof!” Matthew exclaimed. “I wanna come too.”

Declan let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. But if you get in trouble, I’m not getting you out.” It sounded like a hollow threat.

“Aren’t you coming?” Matthew asked.

Declan sighed again. “Someone should stay with mom.”

“Spoilsport,” Ronan said. “Guess we should talk about Cabeswater.”

They went over everything Adam had learned since he’d left Ireland. Ronan had insisted he was relaying everything to Declan, but they clearly had different standards of communication. So Adam explained everything again, interrupted by occasional questions or exclamations from Matthew, who seemed to have been left out of the loop entirely.

“Jesus Mary,” Declan said, once Adam had finally finished. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. There's a sidhe double of Matthew, mom’s amnesia is probably the result of a sidhe bargain, and tree magic might be involved.”

“Just a shitton of magical fuckery, what else is new,” Ronan summarized.

“I have a  _ twin _ ,” Matthew said. He’d had a faraway look for much of the conversation; apparently this was what he’d been thinking about. “Can I meet him?”

Declan rubbed between his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “Matty, that is  _ not _ the point.”

“You could meet him, though,” Ronan said, possibly just to induce the frown Declan gave him.

“It might shake him up,” Adam said slowly. “Mochta, I mean. He might tell us more than he means to if he’s preoccupied by something else.”

Declan nodded. “Devious. I like it.” He turned sideways so he could look directly at Matthew, who was next to him on the couch. “But meeting him probably won’t be like you’re imagining, Matty.”

“I can roll with it,” Matthew said easily.

“That’s for later, anyway,” Ronan said. “The most urgent thing is the sidhe bargain, right?” he leaned forward and looked between his brothers. “If it’s causing mom’s amnesia, fixing the bargain is the only thing that can fix it.”

“Right,” Declan said. He paused. “I’m making more assumptions here then I’m really comfortable with, but….” Adam knew how he felt. He was more comfortable with the concrete, too, but he’d had to make peace with the fact that magic would never be as concrete as he wanted. 

“So there’s a bargain,” Declan continued. “What makes the most sense to me is that dad made the bargain with Mochta’s mother.”

“Thought we already fucking knew that,” Ronan interjected.

“We still don’t  _ know _ it. Things might be even more convoluted, but let’s assume for the moment they aren’t.”

“That’s good, right?” Matthew asked. Everyone else looked at him in confusion. “Because if Mochta’s mother made the bargain, he probably knows where to find her. We can ask him to introduce us.”

“That’s assuming he would want to introduce you,” Adam said carefully.

“Well, if it was me, I’d want to.”

“He looks like you, doesn’t mean he’ll fucking act like you,” Ronan said.

“I  _ know _ ,” Matthew said. “But surely he’s at least a little like me.”

“I think what Ronan’s getting at is that he’s sidhe and you’re not,” Declan clarified. “They’re tricksters.”

“But--” Matthew began. Adam decided to intervene before he got stuck in the middle of a brotherly spat.

“We have time to think about this before anyone goes through the doorway again,” he reminded them. “What about the tree magic?”

Ronan and Declan exchanged looks. “That’s a long story,” Declan said. “Perhaps we should save it for tomorrow night?” 

“So you’ll be joining us on the roof?” Ronan asked, faux-innocent.

Declan grimaced. “Sounds like it.”

* * *

The next night, everyone ended up on the roof with three large pizzas and an assortment of blankets pilfered from the Lynch’s linen closet, plus one from the hotel room that Henry insisted he was going to buy and take home. “It’s my blanket soulmate.”

“We’re glad you’ve found love, Henry,” Blue said. They ate pizza and observed the skyline and talked nonsense. Once the pizza was gone and the skyline was fading in the dusk, Gansey cut off the nonsense by saying, “I hear tree magic is the topic for discussion? I brought the book, if it helps.”

Ronan leaned back on his hands and shook his head. “Not unless you can find Cabeswater in your book.”

Gansey opened his mouth to respond, but Declan got there first. “Cabeswater’s not in any book. Not in family records, either. No one’s ever written the story down.”

“Do you want it written down?” Henry asked. “Assuming you’re about to tell it, of course.”

Ronan looked at Henry, who was typing something into his phone, and snorted. “What, on your phone?”

“Yes, actually,” Henry said, looking up. “I’m an expert in top-secret phone shorthand.”

Declan looked like he’d just figured something out. “I believe that,” he said. “It would explain how your mom had an uncanny memory of every single thing said in off-record fairy market meetings.”

“She has a formidable memory,” Henry said with a straight face. “She wouldn’t break the meeting rules, of course.”

“Of course,” Declan agreed, matching Henry’s expression. 

“I want it written down,” Ronan said suddenly. “I mean, unless there’s a reason not to.” He looked at Declan.

Declan considered. “It would be nice to have, and it’s not like we can’t store it securely. Go ahead.”

Henry flourished his phone. “On it.”

Everyone turned their attention to Ronan. “Shit,” he said, “You think I’m telling this story? Declan’s the storyteller.”

“Am I?” Declan said. “It’s been years.”

“Yeah, ” Matthew said, “Which I think means you’re overdue to tell me this one. Come on, D.”

“Alright.” Declan scooted back a bit, and turned to look at the horizon. “Most of this story happened probably a few hundred years after our ancestor made a bargain with the sidhe and became the Greywaren.”

He paused, collecting his thoughts. “The portal of Cabeswater was beset on all sides, and the Greywaren in the mortal realm and the Glaistig in the sidhe realm were sore pressed to defend it. For the sidhe attempted to pass through to the mortal realm so they might kidnap humans for their purposes, and the humans attempted to travel to Tír na nÓg in hopes of obtaining sidhe favors.”

“So the Greywaren traveled to Tír na nÓg, to the dwelling of the Dagda. There he pled that the Dagda might grant sidhe magic to strengthen the defenses of the doorway. The Dagda agreed, for he liked not the enmity engendered by the sidhe’s activities in Éire. 

“The Dagda brought some of his people to enlarge the forest surrounding the doorway, and by magical means caused the trees to grow up quickly. The same forest grew in  Éire as in  Tír na nÓg , and the trees therein were all the seven chieftain trees: yew and oak and ash and pine and hazel and holly and apple.”

“The forest was called Cabeswater, and it hid the portal from all but the most wise and tenacious. When a person, mortal or sidhe, came to the edge of Cabeswater, dread came upon them; and if they nonetheless entered, the forest led them away from the portal by deceitful paths and tripping roots and entangling vines. Should they at last come to the portal, they would find that it was formed from two massive yews; and these were guardians of the doorway, and would curse any who passed through it without leave to wander Cabeswater until they died.”

“For many long years Cabeswater protected the portal, and the duties of the Greywaren and the Glaistig were eased. Then the English invaded Éire. After they conquered all the land around, they decided to set up their government near to the Lynches’ ancestral home. So they looked for trees to fell to build their lord’s hall and other buildings, and found the trees of Cabeswater to be larger and fairer than those of any other wood.”

“The Greywaren of that time told the English to look elsewhere for their wood; that the trees of Cabeswater had a powerful magic and would curse any who cut them down. But the English decided there must be a pagan power in that forest, and became more determined to fell it. So when the Greywaren could not persuade them, he took his family and fled into Cabeswater in Tír na nÓg and took shelter there with the Glaistig.”

“In Tír na nÓg they exhorted Cabeswater to protect the trees in Éire from being felled. Cabeswater dulled the axes of the English and caused ax heads to separate from handles, but the English only brought more axes. In the end, all that remained of Cabeswater in Éire were the yews guarding the portal and some few saplings the English had deemed too small to be of use.”

“Once the English had milled the wood, they returned a few boards from each type of tree to the Greywaren; a paltry payment for the destruction of his forest. Lifeless though the boards were, the Greywaren sensed that they nonetheless retained some small amount of the magic of Cabeswater. So he took them and built from them a home for his family, and a business by which to support them.”

“The Greywaren decided to build surrounding the portal, to give it as much protection as possible using the small magic left in the wood. Inside outer walls of stone he built walls of wood, then anchored wood shelves into all the walls. So it was that, when the profession of bookselling arose some centuries later, the Lynches’ business was well set up to become the first bookshop in Éire. And so it has remained to this day.”

“Cool,” Matthew said, breaking the silence that had fallen after Declan finished. “Our whole bookshop is magic.”

“It’s no longer magic enough, apparently,” Ronan grumbled.

“The….gate trees,” Gansey said thoughtfully. “The yews. Those are the same ones that have been there all along?”

“Yep.”

“Ancient curse trees,” Blue mused. “Badass way to kill someone.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Gansey said. “What I meant was -- the curse applies to sidhe too, yes?”

“Sure?” Ronan said. “It’s oral history, man. Your guess is as good as ours.”

“You’re saying the sidhe should have been cursed by the trees?” Declan asked. “Possibly she came through a fairy mound that’s pretty close. Well, close now that we have cars.”

Ronan chewed furiously on his bracelets. “You think dad went there  _ on purpose _ then?”

“He would, wouldn’t he,” Henry said matter-of-factly. “If he thought Matthew had been kidnapped by a sidhe.”

Matthew, perplexingly, brightened at this. “Does that mean if I went to Tír na nÓg, mom would get her memory back?”

“It’s never that fucking simple with sidhe, Matty.”

“Surely getting Matthew back was only part of the bargain,” Adam pointed out. “Otherwise, why would memory loss be tied to your father’s death?”

“Wait, wait,” Blue said. “If we’re right in assuming Mochta’s mother is involved, then it sure sounds like she had a  _ thing _ for your dad." Blue waggled her eyebrows suggestively; Ronan scowled at her. “Possibly her goal was for your dad to leave your mom. Since apparently he didn’t, maybe the bargain was some sort of compromise.”

“Ew,” Ronan said.

"Fuck," Declan said, "Of course. Dad's business had him away from home a lot, but maybe it wasn't all business."

“But why would mom have to lose her memory after he died?” Matthew asked plaintively.

“We’ll keep working on it,” Gansey promised, giving Matthew’s shoulder a comforting pat.

* * *

_ When Aurora heard the leannán sí’s demands, she was torn; for she was a loving mother, and wanted what was best for Matthew; but she was also a loving wife, and wanted what was best for Niall. And it seemed to her that both acquiescing to the fairy lady’s demand and refusing it would leave one of her kin in misery. But Aurora was a shrewd lady, and she had learnt much of Niall’s fairy-wisdom in her years with him. She told Niall that she would go with him the next day to the fairy-mound, and through the night she turned over in her mind the terms of the bargain she thought to drive with the leannán sí, so that she might be sure to leave no weakness for the fairy to use against them. _

_ When the leannán sí saw that Aurora had come, she was pleased; for she thought surely the mother would not be able to relinquish her son. But Aurora told her that she thought the leannán sí had offered terms that were detrimental to her own cause. For, Aurora reasoned, if Niall accepted the fairy lady’s arrangement and she came to live with him, and left her son in Tir na nOg, then he would have no parents to bring him up. But if Niall rejected her bargain, then the fairy baby would be left to grow up in a world not his own, and that is hard on any child. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the exception of the first chapter, the titles are Irish epigrams (seanfhocail). Translations so far:
> 
> Ag iarraidh forais i bhfodhomhain - trying to find the bottom of an abyss (attempting an impossible task)  
> Ar fhoscadh na gcrann - in the shelter of the trees  
> Ní troimide an loch an lacha - the lake is not heavier for having the duck on it (one interpretation is the more the merrier)  
> Tá craiceann na fírinne air - it has the skin of truth on it  
> Aithníonn ciaróg ciaróg eile - a beetle recognizes another beetle


	5. Suan na muice bradaí

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew goes to Cabeswater. Ronan opens a door.

Matthew began agitating to meet Mochta as soon as he arrived in Galway. They were almost done with breakfast -- more like brunch, really -- the day after Matthew’s flight, and he hadn’t stopped talking about it the whole meal.

"Jesus, Matty." Ronan attempted to give him a stern look, but it was overshadowed by fatigue. Adam had heard the door between the shop and the house close sometime well after midnight. He suspected Ronan had been in the office, combing through Niall’s papers yet again. "At least unpack first. I know you’ll live out of suitcases for months if you don’t."

Matthew pouted. “That’ll take, like, the whole week. And then I have orientation next week!”

“Do you need help with anything?” Adam offered. He was almost as eager to go to Tír na nÓg as Matthew. They hadn’t been since he’d arrived a week ago -- with all the questions they had about the bargain, Ronan’s former impatience to visit Cabeswater had been rebirthed as impatience to find something concrete to confront Mochta with before they returned.

“Yeah!” Matthew said. “Ronan, will you help too?” Ronan gave him a noncommittal grunt.

Unsurprisingly, Matthew had greatly overestimated how long unpacking would take. They were nearly finished by the time Ronan came back into the house for dinner.

“Fucking grand,” Ronan said. “Maybe we’ll have time for Tír na nÓg tomorrow.”

Matthew glared at him, which was roughly equivalent to a puppy growling. “You said once I’d unpacked.”

“I didn’t say  _ immediately _ . By--”

“Ronan,” Adam interjected. “How many times have you gone through all the papers in the office now? I think we have to go to Tír na nÓg to learn anything new.”

“Fucking hell,” Ronan grumbled. “I don’t want to go knowing we’re gonna be blindsided by something. We’re already at a disadvantage in there just by being human.”

“I don’t  _ like _ it,” Adam agreed. “But I think that’s what we have to prepare for.”

Ronan finally agreed to go through the doorway the next day. Adam found him in the bookshop early that morning, turning the silver branch over and over in his hands.

“I don’t think it’ll turn into a sword if you keep staring at it,” Adam said.

Ronan started and turned to look at him. “Don’t assume violence. I was hoping for a book of knowledge or something.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Ronan squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “They take Matthew.”

Adam hadn’t expected this answer. Or, he had expected losing Matthew to be one of Ronan’s worst fears. He hadn’t expected that as a possible outcome of their excursion.

“I know it’s not likely,” Ronan continued, “But if we’re right they may’ve taken him once before.”

“But they got what they wanted.”

“Then. Who knows what they want now?”

Adam laid a hand on Ronan’s arm. Ronan opened his eyes to look at him. “Let’s go find out.”

Once they were all gathered in the bookshop, Ronan wordlessly handed the branch to Adam. So he stepped through the doorway first, hooking one finger under Ronan’s leather bands. A few steps into Cabeswater, Chainsaw swooped down to join them. She landed on Ronan’s shoulder and sat staring at Matthew, tilting her head first to one side, then the other.  _ Kreh-kreh? _ She asked, puzzled.

“Is that how crows say hello?” Matthew asked. He looked solemnly at Chainsaw. “Kreh-kreh to you.”

“Chainsaw is a fucking  _ raven _ , dude, learn your corvids,” Ronan said, offended on Chainsaw’s behalf. “I haven’t heard that sound before, but I think you confuse her.”

“Oh!” Matthew said. “Is it because you know Mochta, Chainsaw?” Chainsaw cocked her head at him again, then flew off in the direction of where they’d first met Mochta.

“Tentative yes?” Adam said. They headed in the same direction, though Chainsaw had flown out of sight and didn’t seem inclined to wait for them as she had before. 

Matthew kept up a steady stream of exclamations as they walked: about how big the trees were, the shape of these bushes, the size of those berries, the beauty of that clearing. Adam hadn’t realized he hadn’t been to Cabeswater before, but it made sense now that he thought about it. Matthew would have only been 10 or 11 when Niall died. What was the appropriate age for bringing your child through a magical doorway to a treacherous world?

“You came back,” a quiet echo of Matthew’s voice said. Mochta stepped into view from behind a large pine tree.

Matthew’s face lit up. “And I came too!” He said. “I’m Matthew. I was really excited to meet you because we’re almost like twins.”

“I know who you are--” Mochta stopped and glanced warily at Ronan. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you that.”

Ronan waved a hand towards him, a curt gesture. “We figured as much.”

Mochta’s face cleared, turning into a sunny mirror of Matthew’s own. “I was excited to meet you too,” he confessed. “I don’t know if we’re really the same age or not. Time works differently here. You look older.”

“Yeah,” Matthew agreed, “You look like me when I started high school. God, you’re lucky you don’t have to do that.” His brow furrowed. “Do you? Have some kind of school?”

“I don’t know what that is exactly--”

Ronan jerked his head at Adam, who followed as he walked away from the other boys and leaned against an oak tree that still gave them a clear view. “Well, they’re already thick as thieves,” Ronan muttered.

“Is that so bad? If we expect to learn anything from Mochta, it’ll be easier if there’s someone he feels is a friend.”

“Clever, Parrish, that’s why we keep you around. The problem is that sidhe are devilish bastards and Matthew doesn’t have a deceitful bone in his body.”

“And Mochta’s a kid,” Adam said. “I’m not saying he isn’t a devilish bastard, but I can’t imagine he’s as dangerous as someone centuries or millennia old.”

Ronan was thoughtful. “There is that. Maybe it would be better to learn as much as we can from him before we track down our bargainer.” 

They watched in silence a while as Matthew and Mochta chatted animatedly. Eventually, Matthew waved them over. “Mochta has something to tell us,” he explained.

“There’s someone else here who wants to meet you,” Mochta said. “Can you come back here tomorrow at the same time?”

“Yeah!” Matthew said.

_ “Who?” _ Ronan asked.

Mochta just shook his head.

“Another thing you can’t tell us?” Adam guessed.

Mochta shook his head again. He’d looked delighted to be there while he was talking with Matthew; now he looked ready to dash away like he had before.

Before Ronan could say anything, Adam put a hand on his shoulder. “I think we can come back tomorrow, yeah?” He said.

“I guess,” Ronan grumbled. 

“Sweet,” Matthew said.

* * *

When they arrived the next day, two things were different. One was a bench that seemed to have been carved into the largest tree in sight. Adam could almost smell the magic wafting from it; it had clearly just been made.

The other difference sat on the bench. It was Aurora Lynch, or someone who looked exactly like her.

Ronan and Matthew both stopped and stared speechlessly.

“Sorry,” Mochta said quietly. “But since I’m not permitted to say anything, I didn’t know how else you could meet.”

“Let me guess,” Ronan said roughly, looking back and forth between Mochta and Aurora, “neither of you are allowed to tell me whether she’s my real mother or a sidhe faker.”

“Correct, I’m afraid,” Aurora said. “But I’m confident my boys will figure it out.”

Ronan made a strangled sound. Matthew still hadn’t recovered his power of speech. 

Adam stepped forward, putting himself between them and Aurora. “Ma’am,” he said, “Is there anything you can tell us?”

Aurora gripped the air near the bench seat, and a shining tree branch appeared in her hand. It was the inverse of the one they’d brought into Tír na nÓg; a gold branch with silver leaves. “Tell me, have you seen another of these?”

Ronan wordlessly produced the silver branch. “No, not that one. I don’t know where the other was kept, I’m afraid, but I don’t think it would have left the house.”

“We’ll go on a treasure hunt,” Matthew said. He had recovered some of his customary cheerfulness. “Will you be able to tell us more if we bring it here?”

Aurora smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid it’s not a magical truth branch. You’ll have more sleuthing to do once you find it.”

Ronan was chewing fiercely on his leather bands now. Matthew’s mouth drooped and twisted like he’d bitten something sour. They’d had all the revelations they could cope with for one day, Adam thought. 

“Thank you for the help, ma’am,” he said. Ronan scoffed. “How can we find you later?”

“Oh, just send for me,” Aurora said. “The trees carry messages. If Mochta’s not around, Opal or the raven will know how to call for me.”

Ronan dropped his hand away from his mouth so he could say “Her name’s Chainsaw.”

“What an extraordinary name for a bird,” Aurora said serenely. “I expect you named her, since there are only manual saws here.”

“She likes it,” Ronan said.

“We should be getting back?” Adam suggested.

“Yeah.” Ronan had kept his distance from Aurora, but now he took halting steps forward, stopping a pace away from Aurora. He began to lift his arms, then dropped them.

“I understand, dear,” she said. “I don’t need a hug today.” Ronan took a step back and crossed his arms, his face unreadable. 

“I still wanna hug you,” Matthew said. So he did, then they said their goodbyes and left quickly.

* * *

“You’re calling Declan, right?” Matthew asked. Ronan had collapsed onto the couch as soon as they got back, and was now flipping his phone into the air and catching it.

He wordlessly held the phone out to Matthew, who rolled his eyes and pulled out his own phone. “D?” he said, almost as soon as the phone was against his ear. There was a pause. “Yeah, I got Ronan to take me to Tír na nÓg. Um, the thing is, um….is there anything different about Mom today?”

Another pause, then Matthew put the phone on speaker and laid it on the coffee table. Declan’s voice crackled irritably through the speaker. “Let me guess, there’s a sidhe who looks like her too?”

“Right,” Ronan said roughly. “Except.” He cleared his throat loudly, but didn’t continue.

“Except?” Declan prompted.

“Except.” Ronan stopped again, then went on. “Except she acted like Mom, too. Like she was before.”

“Yeah,” Matthew agreed quietly.

There was a long silence, finally broken by a sigh from Declan. “Look, try not to get angry about what I’m about to ask. It’s been a long time. Are you sure she acted the same?”

“It was like--” Ronan made a choking sound. “It was like she’d never lost her memory. Don’t tell me  _ you’ve _ forgotten,” he added more viciously.

“No--”

“ _ I’m _ sure,” Matthew cut in.

“I obviously wouldn’t know,” Adam added, “But I can say that with Mochta and Matthew you couldn’t mistake them for each other personality-wise.”

“Oh, Parrish,” Declan said. He sounded relieved. “Good to know someone levelheaded is there. Any ideas where to start?”

“Gansey mentioned something a while back,” Adam said slowly. He’d remembered the conversation as they trudged home through Cabeswater. “About adult changelings. We didn’t look into it much, but maybe we should revisit that.”

“What the _fuck_.” Ronan muttered.

“That about sums it up,” Declan said. “I’ll see if my contacts might know anything. Keep me updated.”

They returned to the topic of Aurora’s branch later that day. Ronan had painstakingly gone through the house when he’d moved back to Ireland, and declared himself certain that he hadn’t seen anything like the branch. “But if you never touched it, you wouldn’t have seen it,” Adam reminded him.

“Didn’t you say this is what you’re good at?” Ronan asked. “Finding magical objects?”

Adam had already been quietly attempting to attune himself to any magic in the house. All he’d found was the doorway’s powerful signal; it probably drowned out anything else.

They brought Ronan’s branch into the house, as far from the doorway as possible, so Adam could use it as a test case. The results were not encouraging; he had to be within a few feet of the branch before he was able to distinguish its feel from the doorway’s.

“I’d have to be in the same room, at the very least,” Adam concluded. “Where should I start?”

“Ronan,” Matthew said, “What about Mom and Dad’s room? Did you find anything there?”

“Haven’t looked.” Ronan said flatly.

“You said you’d go through it when you moved back.”

“Haven’t gotten around to it yet.” Ronan’s expression was as flat as his voice. 

“I think we need to check there,” Adam said softly.

“You’re being too nice,” Matthew informed him. “Sometimes you gotta drag Ronan into things.” He matched actions to words, grabbing Ronan’s hand and pulling him towards the closed door at the end of the hall.

“ _ Alright _ ,” Ronan growled, darting ahead of Matthew just in time to block the door. “I can get it. Might want to cover your face, it’s gonna be a dust bunny farm.” He opened the door.

“Ew,” Matthew said, peering over Ronan’s shoulder. Adam followed them into the room. The dust was thick, but Adam barely noticed. The predominant thing he sensed was eerie silence.  _ Magical _ eerie silence. Magic was absent most places; that wasn’t strange. But here, the absence was somehow tangible. Magic was supposed to be here, but it wasn’t.

Matthew and Ronan still stood staring at the room. “Want me to give you some space?” Adam suggested. He might need space too; even Cabeswater’s magic energy was dim here, and he felt its absence like a lack of oxygen.

“Nah,” Ronan answered, pulling his gaze away from the room to look at Adam. “Just don’t know where to start.”

“Dust is easier to deal with than magic,” Matthew said, surprisingly pragmatic. “I’m gonna start with taking the bedding to the wash.” They helped him strip the bed in silence. 

“Does this room have some kind of magical protection?” Adam asked after Matthew left.

Ronan’s brow furrowed. “Like what hides the doorway?”

“Yeah. Or, no, not exactly. It feels more like….magic insulation. I can barely sense Cabeswater at all here.”

“I don’t know of anything.”

“Right. I’ll try to focus.” Adam closed his eyes. He felt Cabeswater’s muted thrumming, but there was nothing else. Then Ronan clapped a hand on his shoulder, and suddenly the magic volume was at full blast. Adam gasped and opened his eyes. Ronan jerked his hand away.

“Jesus,” he said. “I didn’t think you startled that easily.”

“I think--” Adam gasped again, then stopped and took a deep breath. It  _ had _ been startling. “I think you’re the magic insulation remover, as it were. That was  _ loud _ .”

“Sorry,” Ronan said, not sounding very sorry. “Did you find it?”

Adam thought. Cabeswater had been by far the loudest, but there were also two other presences. One was Ronan’s branch, a dim hum from the bookshop. The other was a higher pitched, handbell-like sound--

“That door,” he said, pointing. “Closet?”

“Bathroom,” Ronan corrected, opening it. The room was small, as master baths went; apart from under the sink or in the medicine cabinet, there seemed to be nowhere to conceal something. Ronan opened both cabinets and went through them in short order, groping through the empty spaces in hopes of grabbing onto the branch.

“Right,” he said. “Can you be any more specific?” He held out his hand to Adam, offering to amplify the magic.

Adam shook his head. “Too much, I think. Let me try without first.” He closed his eyes again. The bell sound was very faint, but close. It was--

“So,” he said. Ronan looked at him. “I’m about 90% certain it’s in the toilet tank.”

Ronan removed the lid, then looked back at Adam. His face crinkled in disgust. “You better be right about this. Wanna double check?”

Adam looked in at the slimy green-brown growth on the walls of the tank. It really wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. He didn’t need to close his eyes to check; the bells were clanging now. “It’s there.”

Ronan reached a hand in and fished around briefly, then pulled out a branch identical to Aurora’s. Two drops of water rolled down the branch back into the tank, and then it seemed completely dry. “Not even slimy,” Ronan said. “Thank fuck.”

Matthew came back just then. He looked at the branch, then at the open toilet tank. “Gross. Um, Ronan….?” He said tentatively.

“It’s not gonna give me toilet cooties or something, chill.”

“You’ve held grosser things. I was going to say, we really should, like, deep clean in here.” Matthew swept his arm around to encompass the bedroom and bathroom. “At least let me get the dust out.”

Ronan gave him a curt nod. “We’ll be doing research in the bookshop, if you need a break.”

“That’s it?” Matthew asked. “I thought there would be some big dramatic reason you hadn’t touched this room.”

“No. Yes. I just didn’t want to deal with it.” Ronan paused to look around the room, his eyes occasionally resting on one thing or another that must’ve held significance. “I still don’t want to deal with it, but it’ll be good if you can.”

Matthew watched Ronan like he was waiting for something. “Alright,” he said finally. “Have fun on your bookshop date.”

* * *

Ronan directed Adam to one of the side rooms; its shelves were almost completely full of books in English about Irish myths and folklore. Ronan himself stayed in the main room to explore the shelves of similar books written in Irish.

Adam sat on the floor in front of the shelves and started reading titles. It did not seem to be an effective way of selecting likely books for their research. The titles were too generalist to tell if there would be anything inside about changelings.  _ Tropes in Irish Storytelling _ , that sounded promising.  _ Recurring Themes in Celtic Mythology? _ He pulled these and a few other books from the shelves to bring over to the side table and sat on the sofa next to it.

Right, he’d been going to ask Gansey. He pulled out his phone to send a text:  _ what are the chances you’ve done more research on adult changelings? _ Then he settled in to start going through the books.

Ronan joined him shortly, his own stack of books about twice the height of Adam’s. He wordlessly sat on the other side of the small sofa. Their shoulders pressed together. When Adam glanced over at Ronan, he was already seemingly engrossed in one of his books.

Adam went through half his books in short order; they only talked about infant changelings. He took a few notes anyway. Gansey texted back:

_ ~Of course I have. In general, they’re not too much different from child changelings. People recognize them because personality changes for the worse. _

_ -Weird. Ronan and Matthew say the Aurora we met in Tír na nÓg behaves just like their mother. _

_ ~THE WHOMST _

Ronan elbowed him gently, and Adam realized he must’ve been jostling him with his texting motions. He tried to pull his arm in closer to himself. “Sorry.”

Adam glanced up at Ronan and found him already looking back. “Nothing to be sorry for. Just thought I should let you know I’m reading over your shoulder.”

“Oh.” Adam tilted the phone so Ronan could see it better. Instead of acting like a normal person, Ronan slouched and slid down the couch until he was eye-level with the phone. Gansey had sent the next text by the time he was situated.

~ _ 2 options off the top of my head: 1. That Aurora is their mother? 2. She’s sidhe but chooses to act like that for unsavory reasons? _

“Unsavory reasons,” Ronan snorted. “I assume that’s a euphemism for  _ wants to fuck with us _ .”

“Definitely Gansey-speak for  _ could be very bad _ ,” Adam confirmed. He looked down at Ronan to see if he could discern his reaction to Gansey’s first theory.

Ronan had a far-off look. “What would it mean,” he said slowly, “if that  _ was _ our mom?”

“God.” Adam stopped to think about it. “That her being in Tír na nÓg was part of the deal, probably? I couldn’t begin to guess when or why or how long though.”

Ronan growled a litany of garbled profanity as he slid the rest of the way off the couch and then slouched down further for good measure. He leaned his temple against Adam’s knee. “It seems like,” he added, once he’d drained himself of profanities, “the sidhe woman must’ve lived here some of the time, and none of us even noticed Mom was gone. We should’ve noticed.”

His voice was steady, but Adam could feel how tense he was. Hesitantly, Adam reached out and placed his hand on Ronan’s head. His buzz cut was softer than it looked. He had the urge to rub Ronan’s head, but that seemed too intimate. So he just waited until he felt some of the tension drain away.

“You were kids,” Adam said gently. “Your parents probably did their best to keep you from noticing.” He’d worried this would upset Ronan again. Instead Ronan just tilted his head to look up at him, calm but puzzled.

“I mean,” Adam said, “If it’s traumatic to find out now that one of your parents was occasionally replaced by a sidhe, imagine how it would’ve been when you were younger.”

By the look on his face, Ronan could imagine it vividly. “I suppose we couldn’t have done anything about it back then,” he said. “But we will now.” Abruptly, he turned his head to press his face against Adam’s jeans. Adam brought his hand to the back of Ronan’s neck and rubbed his thumb gently against his nape.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Ronan said, after they’d been sitting in companionable silence for a while. He turned his head just enough to speak clearly, and incidentally pressed it more firmly against Adam’s hand. “But I wish you’d come here sooner.”

“I’m not sure what the wrong way would be,” Adam replied. Adam himself sometimes wished he’d known Henry and Seondeok sooner, but he’d never imagined someone feeling that way about him. He couldn’t think why anyone would take it negatively.

“I don’t want you to think--” Ronan turned to sit up and face Adam fully, and leaned his elbow on top of Adam’s knee. It was not comfortable, but Adam wasn’t going to complain. “--To think I just want you here to help us fix our shit.”

This was not what Adam had been expecting. Ronan seldom was. “I never had that impression. Of any of you, I mean, but especially not you.”

Ronan grinned, then stood and pulled Adam to his feet in one smooth motion. “Good, because we’re taking a break from this tonight to do dumb shit. I’m gonna tell Noah to come over. Him and Matty will probably want to play video games.”

  


* * *

_ The terms Aurora proposed were these: that Matthew would be returned to the Lynch household, and that the leannán sí would take Aurora’s place there. But Aurora would travel to Tír na nÓg, and raise the fairy-Matthew as her own, if in return the leannán sí would make a pact to raise all Aurora’s sons as her own. The leannán sí was irate, but also sorrowful; for she saw that Aurora spoke true, and that her own child would have been harmed by the pact she thought to make. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suan na muice bradaí - a tense silence, literally slumber of the sneaky pig
> 
> Come talk/ask questions/give me your predictions about this fic on [tumblr](semicolonsandsimiles.tumblr.com)


	6. Giorraíonn beirt bóthar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dangerous things can protect themselves, and an accidental confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art in this chapter is by [homunculiii](https://homunculiii.tumblr.com/)!

Matthew, as predicted, proposed video games. Noah proposed that he bring over a stack of wood pallets from behind the diner “to make something awesome with.” Adam suggested fences and trellises for the overgrown gardens around the bookshop; the others unanimously voted this idea not awesome enough. Noah and Ronan and Matthew threw out increasingly absurd ideas until Matthew exclaimed “I’ve got it! A ramp to the moon!”

“Rockets don’t launch off ramps,” Adam murmured automatically. He’d long since stopped paying much attention to the discussion and stretched out on the grass to inspect the leaves overhead.

“It’s for the BMW,  _ obviously _ ,” Noah said.

“Yeah, Parrish,  _ obviously _ ,” Ronan said. “You should know how ramps to the moon work.”

“I know how cars work.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Ronan scoffed. Matthew and Noah had already absconded to retrieve tools. When they returned, Ronan joined them in constructing something that vaguely resembled a ramp. Adam watched and needled from the sidelines.

“You really gonna risk your car on that?” he asked, after it appeared they had done all the Rube Goldberging they could do.

“We’re trying Noah’s first.”

Noah protested vehemently. In the end, both cars were spared the questionable journey and they went inside to eat pizza and play video games.

Much later, when they were sprawled across the couches and the floor and only Matthew retained the energy necessary to operate a controller, Noah asked about Aurora.

Silence stretched like taffy. Matthew paused his game and put the controller down, looking at Ronan expectantly. Adam remembered that he didn’t yet know the results of that afternoon’s research.

“There’s a double of me  _ and  _ her,” Matthew said, still looking at Ronan.

Noah understood immediately. “So you’re wondering whether she’s trapped in Tír na nÓg or trapped in her own mind. Oh, Ronan.”

Ronan stared fixedly at the ceiling. “Don’t ‘oh, Ronan’ me.”

Noah found something on the floor - a large pizza crumb? - and flicked it into Ronan’s cheek. “I saved your life, I’ll say what I want.”

“I saved  _ your _ life,” Ronan countered. He propped himself on one elbow and looked at Noah. “Therefore, your benefits are null and void.”

They were clearly teasing, but the  _ saved your life _ parts seemed to be serious. Adam felt he was intruding. It was late, anyway. He stood quietly to head to his room.

“Adam!” Matthew said. “You aren’t going to ask for the story?”

“What story?”

“How they saved each other’s lives, duh.”

“That sounds like an unpleasant story to tell,” Adam said, looking at Ronan and Noah from the corner of his eye.

Ronan levered himself up to sitting. “I was gonna tell you sometime,“ he said, picking at the omnipresent leather bands. “Sit down.”

“Consider this your initiation,” Noah added. Into what, he didn’t say.

They interrupted each other so often - abetted by Matthew, who kept saying _tell him about…_ regarding things that turned out to be trivial tidbits - it was difficult to piece things together in order. Eventually, what emerged was this. Ronan and Noah had met at the boarding school the Lynches attended in New York. Noah did his student teaching there, then got hired on. _Noah_ _was the only teacher I could stand_ , Ronan said, and Noah was the only one who knew where to find Ronan the night he cut his wrists. Later, Noah’s relationship with another teacher turned sour; _when he told me I went to see my family too much, that was the final straw._ The other teacher was the type to attempt bludgeoning someone when he didn’t get his way, but Ronan intervened. _Whelk’s nose was totally shattered,_ Noah proclaimed, like it was the punchline of a joke. Adam thought his glee was justified, considering.

After, Noah had decided to step away from teaching for a while. Ronan had decided to move back to Ireland, where he had noticed the restaurant down the street was for sale.  _ Do you think they’ll let me turn it into an American-style diner _ , Noah had asked. Whoever “they” were did not seem to have objected, and here Noah still was four years later.

“That’s my favorite story,” Matthew said when they’d finally finished.

“You have macabre taste in stories,” Ronan told him.

“It’s not mah….cob?” Matthew protested, scrunching his face up with the effort of pronouncing the word. “That means, like, scary and bad, right? It’s not that because it has a happy ending. And that’s when you….that’s when we all started to get better.”

Ronan worried his bracelets with his teeth. “Huh,” he said. “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

“Macabre with a happy ending,” Noah said with a yawn. “My favorite.”

“Did we keep you up past your bedtime, old man?” Ronan asked.

“No, but I should go check in on the diner before I actually go to bed. Walk me out, Adam?”

Adam looked at Ronan, who shrugged and tossed him the bookshop keys. So he walked through the dark bookshop and into the humid August night with Noah.

“Matthew tends to take the optimistic view of things,” Noah said as Adam shut the door behind them.

“I gathered as much.”

“I mean, he’s not wrong about things getting better after -- all that. But Ronan still keeps most people at arm’s length.” They had arrived at the car. Noah leaned against it and looked at Adam. “Not you, though.”

“Noah--” 

“I’m not meddling,” Noah said quickly, with the air of someone who was definitely meddling. “I’m just saying, Ronan doesn’t do things halfway.” He got in the car.

“I can’t tell if that’s an encouragement or a warning.”

Noah just winked at him, then reached through the open window to knock once on the roof of his car as he pulled away. 

* * *

Adam’s phone rang some time around 2 am. The caller ID showed Mr. Grey, which meant he was calling about something urgent; Mr. Grey was not the type of person to miscalculate a time change. Adam answered before he had fully woken up.

“I told Declan Lynch this just now,” Mr. Grey said without preamble, “So I’m sure you’ll hear about it tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you myself.” Adam was instantly alert. He recognized that tone of voice. It meant danger was probably imminent.

“I tracked down the people responsible for killing Niall Lynch,” Mr. Grey continued. “Well, just one person, now.”

There was a lot of information to absorb in that sentence. Starting with: “I thought the killer was sentenced years ago,” Adam said. 

“The person who physically murdered him, yes. Not the people who paid that person. The Greenmantles.” Adam recognized the name. The Greenmantles were possibly the most notorious thieves of the fairy market, a network full of notorious thieves. They were ambitious and cruel and would probably be voted “most likely to assassinate you” if the fairy market published a yearbook.

“Makes sense,” Adam said. “Wait, you said there’s only one of them now?”

“Colin Greenmantle was murdered last week,” Mr. Grey explained. “Which is how I caught their trail, incidentally. But the important part is that Piper has been asking questions about the Greywaren. And about traveling through the ley lines. I know I don’t need to remind you how ruthless she is. Be on guard.” He paused. “None of you should go through that doorway alone, I think.”

“We haven’t been.”

“Good. Take care.” It was more warning than farewell. Mr. Grey hung up.

* * *

When Adam exited his bedroom in the morning, the first thing he noticed was Ronan sitting on the couch, golden branch in hand. He was inspecting it intently, turning it over in all directions, occasionally setting it down and picking it up to watch it disappear and reappear.

Adam hadn’t expected anyone else to be up this early. “Did you sleep?” He asked quietly.

Ronan shook himself out of his reverie, but didn’t move his gaze from the branch. “A bit.” He turned the branch end over end. “Are we just gonna go back and say ‘here’s your branch’? I feel like there was more we were supposed to figure out.”

“I think we’ll only figure out more by talking to Aurora.”

Ronan flipped the branch up into the air. Improbably, he caught it as it came down. “Okay.” He stood abruptly. “No time like the present?”

Adam gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m on campus all day for meetings and paperwork. After dinner?”

“Before dinner?” Ronan bargained.

Ronan’s restlessness was a tangible presence. It pushed against Adam’s skin, tried to seep in through his nose and ears. Adam sighed. “If I’m back in time.”

He was not back in time. Ronan tried to speed things along by gulping down dinner without chewing, which did him no good since Adam was uninterested in following suit.

Matthew was out with new friends from orientation. “He has no sense of time,” Ronan said, when Adam suggested waiting for him. “He’ll be pissed, but he’ll get over it. I’ll take him back soon, anyway.”

The journey into Cabeswater was almost routine now. Adam recognized landmarks on the path to where they met Mochta and Aurora; a tree bent parallel to the ground here, a vine hanging low over the trail there, the patches of bushes bright with late summer berries.

Aurora’s bench-tree was empty when they arrived. No surprise, really, since they hadn’t said when they’d be back. What was unusual, was that there’d been no sign of Mochta or Opal or Chainsaw for their whole walk.

“Should we have asked Cabeswater to send a message?” Adam wondered.

“I’m not sure I’d know how,” Ronan admitted. “Opal or Chainsaw could do it.”

“Is it weird that we haven’t seen them at all?” Adam had seen them every time he’d been here, but that wasn’t very many times. He didn’t know if they had some sort of sixth sense that told them to go check on Ronan when he came to Cabeswater.

“Not really. Maybe.” Ronan frowned. “I mean, it’s not weird for them to fuck off and do their own thing. But it is a little weird that they know something’s up and neither of them is hanging around to check on us.”

“Well,” Adam said, “I’ll see if I can ask Cabeswater to send a message.” He didn’t know how any more than Ronan did. But Cabeswater had voiced the words straight into his head the first time he’d come, so maybe it listened the same way. He closed his eyes, though it was hardly necessary when the forest’s magic pulsed all around him.  _ Cabeswater, can you hear me? _

_ Baol, _ Cabeswater responded.  _ Baol _ . It sounded ominous. Adam ignored that for the moment.  _ Can you ask Mochta and Aurora to meet us here? _ He asked.  _ Baol, _ Cabeswater repeated, but Adam understood that the message had been sent.

Ronan was watching him intently when he opened his eyes. “It worked,” Adam said. “What’s baol, though?”

Ronan frowned. “Danger. Something threatening. Did it say anything else?”

“No. But Mr. Grey said-- did Declan tell you?”

“Yeah. But ley line travel is  _ hard _ , right? You don’t think Piper’s figured it out already?”

Adam had the advantage of having had almost a full day to think about this. And, probably, of having a better theoretical understanding of ley line function. So he had realized a dreadful truth: Piper didn’t need to travel there herself. There were any number of ghastly beings living elsewhere along the ley lines, and for magical creatures, ley line travel was a simple task. 

Adam explained this to Ronan as quickly as he could. “Fucking brilliant,” Ronan muttered. “So we have no idea what we’re looking for. I’d rather deal with Piper.”

“I’m not so sure I would.” Adam had heard  _ stories _ . He turned in a slow circle, scanning the forest for anything unexpected. There was nothing, for now. “Let’s not stay long today, anyway.”

Ronan watched Adam’s circle out of the corner of his eye. “We can send them a message to meet us tomorrow, if you’re that worried.”

“It’ll be just as dangerous tomorrow. I think we can wait.”

They didn’t have to wait long. “I thought you’d come today,” Aurora explained, “But Mochta says Cabeswater is acting strangely. So we waited outside.”

“Cabeswater says there’s something dangerous here,” Adam confirmed. He glanced at Mochta, who only shrugged. “We won’t stay long.”

“Found the other branch.” Ronan pulled it from his back pocket. He held it in front of him but kept it close, not offering to hand it to anyone. “It’s like my branch, isn’t it? Some sort of token for passage. Will it let you come back with us?”

Aurora smiled regretfully. “I knew you’d be quick. It is a token, but the conditions are more complicated. We don’t have them now.”

“There’s two of them,” Ronan said slowly. “The-- the other you has to come here if you go there?”

“That’s part of it.” Adam shifted his gaze from Aurora to Mochta. The look the latter sent Ronan was unsettlingly familiar. Adam recognized it from dealings in the fairy market; it was a look that said, I see you’ve got the upper hand now, but I’m scheming how to get it back.

“We don’t have the conditions  _ now _ .” Adam realized it as he said it. “It has to be a certain time?”

“Ah,” Aurora said. “You’ve found a clever one, Ronan.”

A gust of wind shook the trees around them. Adam felt it reverberate through Cabeswater’s magic as well, a subliminal  _ whoosh _ that tried to sweep them out of the forest.

“We should go,” Mochta said. The scheming look from a moment before was gone. He looked terrified; so he’d gotten Cabeswater’s message as well. Ronan gave him a curt nod.

“What happened, loves?” Aurora asked. She apparently had not felt Cabeswater’s magic. Adam couldn’t think why Cabeswater would want to keep its warning from her, but that was hardly the most pressing issue now. 

“Cabeswater’s telling us to leave,” Ronan replied. “We’ll be back soon.” He turned and strode away in such a rush that Adam had to walk uncomfortably fast to keep up with him.

Cabeswater became increasingly agitated as they hurried towards the doorway. The gusts of wind became more frequent, and sometimes the trees continued moving well after the wind had passed. Cabeswater continued to communicate in forest noises. Sometimes, along with the whoosh of the wind and the creaking of the trees, Adam thought he heard the squawking and chattering of birds and small mammals, though he never saw them. Perhaps they were far away, escaping, and Cabeswater was sending their distress cries to its guardians.

Then there was a harsh, loud caw, and a beating of wings as Chainsaw flew between them. More bird calls, louder than Chainsaw’s and rapidly growing louder, followed behind her.

“Well, fuck,” Ronan said as they both turned to look, instinctively stepping from the path into the relative shelter of a tree.

What flew towards them might have belonged to a fiendish branch on the magical raven family tree. It had grown to several times the size of a normal raven and was easily as tall as Ronan. Whether by magical manipulation or its own supernatural genetics, it had developed rather more than the usual number of eyes and wings. Amidst all this wrongness, what captured their attention was the beak. It came to a vicious point and was serrated all along the edges, like a tomato knife for human flesh. 

“Fuck,” Adam echoed.  _ Cabeswater, help. _ The branch he had not realized he had been holding broke off in his hand. It reformed itself into a blindingly bright sword. The beast screeched at the light.

Adam wordlessly handed it to Ronan. Swords had not been among the weapons Mr. Grey had taught him to use. 

It was unlikely that Ronan knew how to use a sword, either, but as soon as he took it his expression changed from helpless terror to grim determination. “Right,” he shouted at the bird-monster, “My sharp thing’s longer than yours, wanker!”

The monster landed heavily. It was probably too heavy to fly, at least by the usual laws of physics. Adam pointed this out to Cabeswater, just in case it had a say in the local laws of physics. Then he began frantically probing his connection to the forest, searching for individual branches or roots he could move into the monster’s path.

This slowed the monster only marginally as Adam and Ronan scuttled backwards and sideways towards the door. It was almost within sword’s-reach. They were at least 20 long strides from the door.

In a flash, Ronan yanked Adam closer to the door, planting himself between Adam and the monster. Then he lunged and swept the sword at the monster. A deep cut opened along one wing and half its breast; green-black blood welled out.

At the same time, Adam noticed a thick branch overhanging the path where the monster stood.  _ Crack, _ he willed it. It snapped violently and crashed onto the monster’s back. It shrieked in pain.

Chainsaw swooped down from wherever she had gone, clawing at the monster’s eyes, then rocketed up before it could retaliate.

Adam grabbed Ronan’s hand and pulled him, sprinting, towards the door. He could hear the monster’s injured wing dragging through the dirt as it followed. Chainsaw cawed triumphantly as she attacked again.

They burst through the door. Ronan’s sword returned to its original form. He flung the branch across the room and himself onto the floor, where he leaned back against the bookshelves, breathing heavily.

Adam sat himself down more gently. As he did, Chainsaw shot through the door and landed ungracefully on the floor. She straightened herself up and looked around, as if checking whether anyone had noticed her stumbles. Then she flew carefully up to a half-empty top shelf and tucked herself away there.

Adam’s heartbeat gradually slowed. He felt Ronan’s pinky finger overlapping with his where their hands rested on the floor. He admitted to himself that one of the reasons he wanted to mend Aurora’s curse as soon as possible was distinctly selfish. Adam was observant; he’d noticed how Ronan looked at him, how Ronan had been looking at him since they met. But he was not about to mention it while they were entangled in this magic web. It would be unfair to complicate Ronan’s life even more.

“What was that?” Ronan asked. Adam felt Ronan looking at him. What part of his introspection had slipped out of his mouth?

“I’m--”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Ronan said, almost-but-not-quite a whisper. “Look at me.”

Adam would’ve rather looked anywhere else just then. Somehow he dragged his eyes over to Ronan’s. Ronan’s eyes were intense, because they were always intense, but right now they were intensely inquiring and caring.

Slowly, Ronan lifted his hand from the floor and brought it to the side of Adam’s face. Adam instinctively turned into the touch, because apparently he was hopelessly smitten.

“I thought so,” Ronan said, and at least he also sounded hopelessly smitten. “C’mon, I want to hear the rest of what you didn’t mean to say.”

“I didn’t want--” Adam stopped, because he  _ did _ want. “I’m not going to make your life more difficult. I can wait until we’ve sorted this mess out.”

Ronan was still watching him expectantly. Adam realized he hadn’t said what he was waiting for. He was damn sure Ronan knew, but he said it anyway. “I can wait to ask you out.”

“You are an entire dumbass.” Ronan brushed his thumb over Adam’s cheek. “You wouldn’t-- you don’t-- so far you’ve only made my life  _ less _ difficult.”

“You know what I  _ mean _ . Relationships are complicated.”

“It’s not complicated now,” Ronan insisted. If Adam was a dumbass, Ronan was a stubborn ass. “How much would change, really? Is it the kissing that’s complicated? Do you have a weird tongue?”

If Ronan was going to give him shit, Adam could play that game too. “If it’s not complicated, why haven’t  _ you _ asked  _ me _ out?”

“I--” Ronan looked embarrassed now, so Adam really wanted to hear this. “You just moved to another country where you know almost no one and are about to start grad school. It’s a lot of life changes at once.”

“It’s almost like you’re saying you didn’t want to make my life more difficult.”

“Maybe I’m a bit of a dumbass too.”

“So I’m an entire dumbass, but you’re only a bit--”

“Shut up,” Ronan said, and kissed him. It was gentle and hesitant and they were still sitting side by side on the floor and not touching nearly enough.

Adam put his hand over Ronan’s, then pulled back just enough to remedy the situation. Ronan looked at him with concern. Or mock concern, maybe, because what he said was: “Don’t worry. Your tongue’s not weird.”

“You haven’t even-- just shut up.” Adam scooted around so he could sling his legs over Ronan’s and wrap an arm around Ronan’s neck.

“Oh,” Ronan said. He pulled Adam’s legs closer with his free hand.

“Yeah,” Adam agreed. He leaned in to resume the kiss.

This kiss was firmer, surer, longer. Adam offered Ronan extensive evidence that his tongue was not weird. At some point, Ronan removed his hand from Adam’s face so he could wrap that arm around his waist, using both arms to pull Adam as close as possible.

Despite the heady rush of the kiss, Adam felt exhaustion catching up with him. Ronan must’ve sensed it, because he paused with his lips barely brushing Adam’s. 

“It would be super embarrassing if I fell asleep here,” Adam murmured.

“I’d never let you live it down,” Ronan agreed. He kissed Adam again, swiftly but soundly, before loosening his arms.

Adam got to his feet and reached down to pull Ronan up. Ronan looked disappointed, even though he was clearly just as exhausted as Adam. He kept hold of Adam’s hand while his mouth worked out what it wanted to say.

“Sleep with me?” was what finally came out. Adam looked at him, dazed. His mind raced, but it didn’t come up with a coherent reply.

“Jesus, Parrish, not like that. I’m a good Catholic boy.” 

Adam snorted and dropped his head to Ronan’s shoulder, shaking with silent laughter. Ronan wrapped an arm around his waist and smirked against the top of his head. “I didn’t really want to be alone,” Ronan confessed into Adam’s hair. “You don’t have to, though.”

Adam composed himself and looked up. “I want to. Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed the lack of fairy tale snippet at the end of this chapter - that is because it got out of sync with the main fic and the next bit was super spoilery. So there will be longer fairy tale snippets with the next couple chapters.
> 
> Giorraíonn beirt bóthar - two travellers shorten the road


	7. Níl tuile dá mhéad nach dtránn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Adam pressed his lips to Ronan’s neck and wrapped his arm more tightly around Ronan and hoped that somehow the physical comfort could make up for how much pain his words were going to cause._
> 
> Mostly angst and birds.

As they walked back to the house Ronan wrapped his hand around Adam’s, very loosely, like he was offering Adam the option to slip out of his grasp and walk away if he wanted.

Adam didn’t want. He clasped Ronan’s hand firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ronan squeezed back. “Well, I’m going to the shower,” he said as they entered his bedroom. “Make yourself at home.”

Adam sat on Ronan’s bed once he’d left and looked around the room. The glimpses he’d seen through the doorway previously had shown him an unmade bed and clothes strewn around the floor. Now he noticed that many of Ronan’s belongings were treated with more care: a violin case and a bagpipe-like instrument arranged neatly in a small alcove, a pair of boxing gloves hung on the wall, a handful of clearly magical objects displayed on a shelf. 

He wrenched his thoughts back to the encounter with the monster. He should call Mr. Grey.

Mr. Grey answered on the first ring. After Adam’s narration of the fight, he asked for a detailed description of the monster.

“I’m almost certain I know where that thing came from,” he said when Adam had finished. “Which means I might know exactly where Piper Greenmantle is.”

Adam breathed a silent sigh of relief. “You’ll stop Piper soon, then.” It wasn’t a question; there was never of a question of  _ if _ Mr. Grey would succeed at a mission, only  _ when _ . “What about the monster? Will it disappear whenever Piper stops...doing whatever it is she’s doing?”

“I’m not sure it will be that simple. It--you need to talk to Persephone,” Mr. Grey said, in the slightly put-upon tone that he never quite got rid of when talking about Persephone. Mr. Grey had no patience for cryptic pronouncements, no matter how clairvoyant.

“I’ll do that tomorrow.”

There was a pause long enough that Adam wondered if Mr. Grey had hung up. “You were lucky today,” he said, just before Adam hung up himself. “Can you stay out of that forest until you know more about what’s going on?”

Ronan had come into the room and sat down silently next to Adam as he listened. “We can try,” Adam replied. “At least until you catch Piper.”

“Grey?” Ronan questioned after he’d hung up.

“Yeah.” Adam recounted their conversation.

“Well, good,” Ronan said, though he was holding himself rigidly, hands gripping the edge of the bed. “Guess I should tell Declan. He’ll be pissed if he hears it secondhand.”

Adam squeezed Ronan’s thigh. “You do that while I shower.” Ronan just grunted at him.

Ronan was already in bed when Adam finished showering, curled on one side with his back to the middle of the bed. Adam tried to slip under the covers without disturbing him, but Ronan made a soft questioning sound.

“Hmm?” Adam questioned back.

“C’mere.”

Adam came, wrapping an arm around Ronan’s waist and pressing his forehead to Ronan’s neck. Ronan immediately interlaced his fingers with Adam’s and pulled their joined hands up to kiss Adam’s knuckles.

When Adam woke they were in almost the same position, except that Ronan had rolled slightly away from him while still holding Adam’s hand, trapping it in an awkward position. Adam carefully scooted backwards until he could mostly straighten his wrist.

From this angle he could see the overall design of Ronan’s tattoo. He’d glimpsed it before -- Ronan had no qualms about walking around his own house without a shirt -- but now he could study it. The central shape was a Celtic cross, spanning the length of Ronan’s spine and shoulder blade to shoulder blade. The corners of the knot patterns inside the cross ended in small evergreen branches. Some of the intersections appeared to drip blood. The circular part of the cross was formed of two bent yew trees, strangely familiar; they reminded Adam of the trees that framed the doorway to Tir na nOg.

A raven nested on one arm of the cross, and another dived down from its top point. Around the cross was an open pattern of thorny vines, occasionally punctuated by small flowers that Adam didn’t recognize.

“That tickles,” Ronan mumbled. Adam pulled his hand away. He hadn’t realized he had been tracing the tattoo with his fingers.

Ronan turned his head so he could look at Adam from the corner of his eye. “You didn’t have to stop. Just, don’t have feathers for fingers.”

Adam continued, pressing his fingertips more firmly into the lines of the tattoo. After a while he noticed Ronan becoming tense and still. He pressed his hand flat against Ronan’s back and shifted closer so he could kiss the top of his spine. “You’re thinking about something.”

Ronan reached over his shoulder and fumbled around until he felt Adam’s fingers, so Adam interlaced their fingers and let Ronan pull their joined hands to his chest. “I think that’s my mum. In Tir na nOg.”

Adam thought so too, but he wasn’t quite ready to confirm Ronan’s fear. “What made you decide?”

“It was- it still is mostly intuition. But I couldn’t think why her memory loss would help the sidhe, unless they had Matthew there.” He paused and squeezed Adam’s hand painfully tight. “Tell me that’s not it. You’re still sure he’s here.”

At least this part was easy. “I’m sure.”

“Then Declan reminded me how excited mum used to get on Samhain and Beltane every year. She almost seemed like a different person.” He barked out a short, humorless laugh. “Guess there was a reason for that.”

“You think that’s the only time she was here?” Adam whispered to keep his own voice from breaking.

Ronan let out a shaky breath against their joined hands. “I don’t want to think that without proof. I’m asking what you think.”

Adam pressed his lips to Ronan’s neck and wrapped his arm more tightly around Ronan and hoped that somehow the physical comfort could make up for how much pain his words were going to cause. “Last night, when Cabeswater was warning us off. Aurora couldn’t hear it. Mochta can hear it, Matthew can’t--” 

He didn’t want to say the rest out loud, but he didn’t need to. Ronan curled in on himself, shaking with silent sobs, and said nothing for a long time. Adam held him and did not say  _ we’re going to get her back, _ because nothing could give the Lynches back the past eighteen years.

Eventually, Ronan uncurled himself to turn and face Adam. The tear tracks on his cheeks were dry when Adam reached out to brush them away. Ronan’s voice was hoarse but calm when he spoke. “Guessing Grey told you to stay out of Cabeswater while the monster’s there?”

“Until he catches up with Piper, yeah.”

“Okay. I-- okay.”

Adam rested his palm against Ronan’s cheek. “I know nothing’s really okay, but we’re going to fix as much as we can.” Ronan closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Adam’s.

* * *

When Adam left Ronan’s room some time later, he found Matthew in the kitchen making coffee. Matthew gave him a sunny grin. “ _ Finally _ ,” he said. “Noah and I were afraid we’d have to resort to blatant matchmaking.”

“I’d say Noah already did.” Adam pulled three mugs out of the cabinet and turned the kettle on for Ronan’s tea.

“Bummer,” Matthew said cheerily. “He’ll hog all the credit.”

“He better not,” Adam said, “I think most of it’s mine.”

“Yeah?” Matthew poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Adam. “You have to tell me the story, ‘cause Ronan will just grunt and be like ‘we’re together now, what more do you want from me?’” He did a passable imitation of Ronan’s voice.

Adam gave him a brief smile. He was sure Matthew could coax Ronan into telling him pretty much anything, but at least if they were talking about this, he could steer clear of saying anything about Aurora. So he let himself be convinced to sit down at the bar with Matthew and recap the previous night, starting with the monster.

“I’ll do the brotherly interrogation later,” Matthew said, so seriously that Adam had to quickly bring his mug up to cover his laugh. “But holy shit, dude, you made a sword out of a tree?! That’s like, really powerful magician stuff, right?”

“Dunno,” Adam said, uncomfortable. Magic was like sight or touch, more sense than skill; he’d never figured out how to react when people complimented it. “But that was mostly Cabeswater. I asked for help and the sword was its idea.”

“Why the fuck are we talking about swords?” Ronan shuffled into the kitchen and checked the kettle.

“Adam was telling me about last night,” Matthew said. “Are you an expert swordfighter now?”

Ronan grunted and kept his eyes on his tea-making. “I have to tell you something.”

“I hope it’s not about Adam,” Matthew said, “Because you sound upset.”

Ronan didn’t answer until after he dropped the tea infuser into his mug and came to stand with an arm loosely around Adam’s waist. “Adam’s the good part,” he said, still not looking at Matthew. “I have something to tell you about mum.”

“Ohhh,” Matthew said in a very small voice. “Let’s make breakfast first.”

“Sure,” Ronan agreed quickly. “Parrish, you have school shit?”

Adam glanced at the clock, then at Ronan’s face. It was placid, though his fingers were white where they gripped the mug. Adam leaned against him slightly. “I need to leave soon,” he confirmed. “I should be back early afternoon.”

Ronan sat the mug down so he could use both hands to pull Adam in and kiss him. “We promise not to do anything stupid while you’re gone.”

“Hey,” Matthew said, “Don’t make promises for me.” The jest fell flat.

* * *

Adam’s phone rang while he was walking back from campus. He answered without looking at the caller ID, expecting Mr. Grey.

“Adam!” Henry not-quite-yelled instead. “We’ve been deprived of your daily Ireland updates recently. I dearly hope it’s because you’ve finally succumbed to domestic bliss with Mr. Lynch.” From the background came indistinct sounds of agreement voiced by Blue and Gansey.

“Uh, something like that. But--” He was cut off by his friends’ whoops and whistles.

“Sorry, you said there was a but,” Blue said, her voice becoming louder mid-sentence as she wrested the phone from Henry. “Is it Ronan’s?” Henry cackled.

Adam wished he could wholeheartedly interact with their teasing. “It’s Piper Greenmantle,” he said, opting for the rip-the-bandage-off approach to redirecting the conversation. “I’m surprised no one’s told you yet.”

“Ah,” Henry said, swallowing his laughter. “This must be the ‘urgent business’ that’s put mom and Mr. Grey incommunicado. Please, fill us in.”

“Are you at Fox Way, by chance? I need the witches’ advice on this.”

“Indeed. We shall summon the council.”

Adam reached the house shortly before he reached the end of the story. No one else was there. Ronan was probably just in the bookshop, Adam reassured himself. He found himself headed directly there as he rushed through the getting-together part of the story.

“Seph,” he said, as he poked his head into the office. No Ronan. “Mr. Grey thought we’d need your help with getting rid of this….monster thing.”

“A monster is just a creature wrongly understood,” Persephone mused.

“Giant bird with too many eyes. We’d still like it not to murder us.”

“Oh,” Persephone said, sounding suddenly more focused, “You don’t need to get rid of it if that’s all you want. The murderous desire appears to come from Piper’s magic.”

“Appears to.”

“Well, it’s also far from home and scared.”

“So sending it home  _ would _ fix everything. What I don’t understand is why it won’t just go back itself, once Piper’s out of the way.”

Adam found Ronan in the second side room he checked, sprawled across the loveseat and apparently sleeping. Ronan’s eyes shot open before Adam could quietly back out, so he leaned against the doorframe and watched Ronan blink and stretch himself awake while Persephone explained.

“It wants to, it just doesn’t know how. It’s too young to have learned to travel so far on its own yet.” Persephone paused, reluctant. “Spells that force it to travel, like the one Piper used, are an option. But I don’t know of any that don’t hurt the creature in the process.”

“You say ‘an option’ like there’s others.” Ronan quirked an eyebrow at him and pointedly swung his legs off the sofa to leave room for Adam. Adam sat down and turned the phone speaker on for Ronan’s benefit.

“The other option is teaching it to travel by itself,” Persephone said, as if it were obvious. She said this like she already knew Adam would choose this option, likely because she did know.

Adam sighed. “How long does that take?”

“Oh, well, you know how time is on the ley line. But it will need lots of practice before it’s ready for a trip like that. Kind of like training a puppy, I’d imagine.”

“We don’t have time to train a puppy,” Adam complained.

“Speak for yourself,” Ronan cut in. There was a general clamor on the other end. Adam had wrongly assumed the rest of the house had dispersed while he talked with Persephone. Ronan ignored them and went on, “I’ve always wanted a puppy with extra eyes and talons.”

“You don’t have to pretend to be edgy,” Blue told him, “No one here believes you.”

“Fuck off, I’m the edgiest person you know. I’m gonna teach it to ride on my shoulder like Chainsaw.”

There was silence. Adam remembered that none of them had met Chainsaw. Had he not told them about her?

“Right,” Henry broke the silence, “Tell me I’m not the only one who heard Ronan say he carries around a sentient power tool.”

The commotion returned. Eventually, it quieted enough for Adam to explain Chainsaw. Ronan did not help; he was clearly amused by the situation. 

After he’d finally hung up, Adam filled in what Ronan had missed about the monster bird. Ronan was pleased to learn that monster-bird would lose its murderous instinct. He frowned and scowled his way through the rest of the explanation, though. At the end he said, “Tell me there’s a semi-safe way to go back now.”

“ _ No. _ Do you have a death wish?”

Ronan turned towards Adam with a hurt look on his face. “Damn, Parrish, I just want a baby animal to  _ not die. _ It’s alone and hurt in a strange place.”

“I di--” Adam bit back his snappish response and sighed. He found Ronan’s hand and squeezed it in his. “I don’t want it to die either, but I care more about  _ you _ not dying. And no, there is not a safe way to visit murder-bird right now.”

“Fuck off--” Adam braced himself for an argument -- “We are not calling it murder-bird.”

Adam relaxed. “What did you want to call it, eye monster?”

“How are you this atrocious at naming something? We’re calling it Battlechick.”

Adam felt his lips pulling into a smile despite his best efforts. “Right, I can see how that’s better. We don’t even know if it’s a she.”

Ronan pushed his bottom lip out exaggeratedly. “I can’t believe my boyfriend’s being heteronormative.”

“I don’t think that’s the word you were looking for, but point taken. It can be Battlechick if it wants.”

Ronan smirked at him. “Now that’s settled, do you think you could find Battlechick with your magic thing?”

Adam’s brow crinkled. “I mean, I’m sure Cabeswater would help me find it. That’s not the problem--”

“No, I don’t mean that,” Ronan cut in. “I mean your magic….travel thing?”

“Oh, scrying. I’ll try it if you’ll help.”

Adam explained the concept of scrying as they returned to the house and scrounged for the necessary supplies. They were setting things up on the coffee table when Matthew got home.

“Hey!” he called as he walked in, though his usual upbeat tone was considerably dampened. He gave the table a puzzled glance. “What sort of game is this?”

It did look a bit like a bizarre game, Adam supposed: a bowl of dark liquid surrounded by candles and small flashlights, with a zester and paring knife set to one side in case of emergency. “Not a game,” Ronan informed Matthew, “We’re looking for Battlechick.”

“For a what?” Matthew looked back and forth between them. 

“The giant bird thing that attacked us last night,” Adam clarified. “It’s hurt and Ronan feels sorry for it.”

Matthew gave a dramatic sigh and flopped down at the adjacent side of the table. “Right, of course he does. Tell me how to help?”

Adam explained everything again. Matthew cocked his head and twisted his mouth, thinking hard. “If we’re not supposed to go there until Piper is dealt with...doesn’t this count as ‘going there’?”

“On a technicality,” Adam agreed. “But this way I can disappear instantly if there’s any sign of trouble.”

“You better mean  _ will _ disappear. Not  _ can. _ ” Ronan scowled at him.

“This  _ was  _ your idea. We can quit if you’re worried.” 

Ronan studied Adam’s face for a long time. “I’m mostly worried you’re downplaying the risk.”

“There’s always a small risk. Much smaller than physically going there right now.” Ronan continued his study of Adam for a while longer before nodding.

“Then let’s do this.”

Adam popped into Cabeswater right next to the door. Battlechick wasn’t immediately visible, but he didn’t think it would have moved very far given its injured state. A soft warble that sounded like Chainsaw echoed from his left. Adam moved to it.

He found both birds in a small clearing surrounded by tall brush. Chainsaw sat on a high branch, watching Battlechick warily, but also making the comforting warbling sound. Battlechick lay at the edge of the clearing, tucked into a makeshift nest formed from trampled brush. Adam tried to creep closer to get a better look at its injuries without alarming it.

He did not get very far before Battlechick turned its head to look at him.  _ Krek! _ It warned, loud and hoarse. Adam stopped moving. Chainsaw squawked a quieter  _ krek _ and flew to the ground between Adam and Battlechick. He couldn’t say which of them she was protecting from the other. 

“I want to see how much it’s hurt,” Adam told Chainsaw. She tilted her head towards the other bird and made a strange trilling sound.

“Yes?” Adam hazarded. 

_ Krek-krek-warble _ , Chainsaw replied. It didn’t sound angry or urgent, at least, which seemed to confirm that Battlechick was in no immediate danger.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Adam decided. “We’ll come as soon as we can.” From the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement at the opening to the clearing. “Opal?”

“Yes,” Opal hissed. “Come away from that.”

Adam left the clearing and followed Opal around a bend in the path. She stopped and looked at him, appraising.

“I guess it’s good you’re a ghost this time,” she decided. “But why were you looking for that bird? It doesn’t belong here.”

“No,” Adam agreed, “But it doesn’t know how to get home. Magic sent it here. Can you tell?”

Opal flapped her hands side to side in an exaggerated  _ so-so _ motion. “I can tell it’s magic. I can’t smell the magic that sent it here. Just get rid of it so it doesn’t try to hurt you again.”

“That was the magic, too.”

Opal huffed, sending the ends of her bangs flying up against the hat she wore even in summer. “Magic sent  _ me _ here, but I’ve never tried to eat anyth-- anyone.”

That was something Adam wanted to find out more about later. But for now: “We’re not getting rid of it. Ronan wants to fix up its injuries.”

Opal narrowed her eyes and frowned, then nodded slowly. “Yesss,” she said, “The Greywaren takes care of everything in the Greywaren’s forest. Okay.”

“Right,” Adam said, relieved. “We’ll come as soon as we can, but will you keep an eye on it ‘til then? I think it needs some water.”

Opal scowled. “I’m not the Greywaren. And I’m not a weird bird that adopts a giant weird bird.”

“Just for a day or two. Chainsaw can’t carry water.” 

“ _ Fine. _ ” Opal scampered off, and Adam pulled himself back to his body.

He immediately fell back into the couch and pulled in heaving breaths of air.

“ _ Fuck,” _ Ronan exclaimed. He pulled Adam up and supported him solidly with both arms. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it--” Adam gasped in more air.

“Breathe first,” Ronan commanded. “Matthew, get some water.” 

Matthew hurried away. By the time he got back Adam was breathing maybe not quite normally, but at least with his mouth closed. He drained the water glass.

“Did you have to run away from something?” Matthew inquired.

“No. Scrying just takes a lot of energy, and when the energy loss gets transferred back to my body, sometimes it forgets how to act for a minute.”

“Ah,” Ronan said, “Sciency shit. Battlechick’s okay then?”

“Seems to be.” Adam recapped his visit. “So everybody seems to be safe for now.”

“What about Mum?” Matthew asked worriedly.

“She doesn’t live in Cabeswater,” Ronan reminded him.

“Oh, right.” Matthew’s face cleared, but then his expression turned melancholy. “I want to see her soon as we can.”

“ ‘Course.” Ronan’s face and voice echoed Matthew’s. “As soon as we can.”

The fatigue from scrying sent Adam to bed early. Some time later, something -- a noise? -- half-woke him. He tensed instinctively as a hand landed lightly on his bicep, then recognized it as Ronan’s and relaxed. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Ronan mumbled as he settled into bed and draped an arm over Adam.

“I’m a light sleeper.”

“Even when you’re exhausted?” Adam was distracted from answering by Ronan’s lips brushing the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t’ve asked if I’d known,” Ronan whispered contritely.

“That’s just how scrying works. I’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Still. I could’ve gone myself, if I’d been thinking.”

Adam was sure Ronan wasn’t talking about scrying now, because that wasn’t the type of thing you just forgot you could do. “What do you mean?”

Ronan pulled himself even closer, so that he was murmuring almost in Adam’s ear. “When I was in New York, I dreamt into Cabeswater. Like, I was actually there. At first I thought I was just dreaming of where I wanted to be, but Opal convinced me.”

“But you haven’t done that here?”

“No, but I haven’t needed to.” Ronan paused. “There was never any danger when I did it before.”

Adam sighed. “I know you’re going to try. Just wake me up if anything happens.”

Ronan was still asleep when Adam woke to his phone ringing. Mr. Grey had caught Piper Greenmantle.

* * *

_ But Aurora’s bargain did not end there, for she knew of the early death that befell human lovers of leannán sí. She told the leannán sí: if you would take my place in this household, then you must use the fairy magic to bind yourself to my husband truly. And you must forge the bond so that if for any reason he dies before a ripe old age, then you will lose all memory of the fairy realm and your place therein, and be doomed to the mortal world. _

_ The leannán sí replied: this I will do if you also take upon yourself a curse. If anyone you know in this mortal realm chances to travel to fairy, and there to meet you, you will be able to speak no word of our bargain. Aurora Lynch considered for a long while, but finally she agreed that it was fair to exchange a curse for a curse. _

_ Niall Lynch had kept quiet throughout this negotiation, for he saw that Aurora’s foresight in the matter exceeded his own. But he thought there was one more stipulation that all parties might find agreeable. So before Aurora and the fairy lady sealed their bargain, he said: perhaps we may make arrangement such that you can each check that the other is upholding the terms of the agreement. At dusk on Samhain and Beltain, you shall travel each to your own realm and remain there until dusk the next day, that you may see how your children fare. _

_ Aurora Lynch was pleased with her husband’s addition; but the leannán sí rightly feared that the Lynches would use their time together to plot how to circumvent her magic. So she asked for a safeguard to guarantee each woman’s return to the other realm. Aurora said, let us each carry a token that compels us to return to this place after the day has passed. This was agreeable to the leannán sí, so she broke two branches from a birch tree standing nearby and spelled them to compel the bearer. As she did so, the branches turned to gold, and the leaves to silver; and each branch grew a single opalescent bud.  _

_ The leannán sí gave one branch to Aurora and kept the other for herself. Then she explained their function: at dusk on the determined days, they would meet at the fairy-mound and exchange branches. Then the flower on each branch would begin to open, and once in full bloom, the petals would begin to drop. The last petal would drop exactly 24 hours after the budding, and if a branch were not at the fairy-mound by then, it would attach itself to the person who bore it and burn them agonizingly until they returned. _

_ Aurora agreed to this; and they all furthermore agreed that they would make the switch the next night, Aurora for the fairy lady and the changeling for Matthew. It was already late into the night when the agreement was finished. But the leannán sí could not admit her bespellment of Matthew, so she risked sneaking into the Lynch house again that night to change him for her son. When they all met again the next night, she delivered Matthew to Niall, while Aurora carried the fairy child. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> níl tuile dá mhéad nach dtránn - there is no flood, however great, that does not ebb away
> 
> This chapter took 2 weeks and has half of what I originally intended to be in it, so chapter count has gone up. The next chapter will (fingers crossed) go up at the end of this week, but the last 2 may take longer to get out. Thanks for your patience!
> 
> If you want more about Ronan's dreaming, I wrote a little prequel drabble [here](https://semicolonsandsimiles.tumblr.com/post/624843743042912256/before-the-beginning-for-the-writing-meme-hope).


	8. Margadh an Luain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"What the fuck," Adam murmured, pulling his own arm tight around Ronan's shoulders. "I think self-sacrificing idiot might run in your family."_
> 
> More birds. More angst. Teenagers acting like teenagers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is only 2 weeks later than I said it'd be....I will make no promises about the next chapter, I've learned my lesson.
> 
> And since I'm behind this chapter isn't edited. I know there's nonsense in here that probably would've been edited out, so I hope you enjoy the extra nonsense.

Adam crept back into the bedroom once he’d finished his phone call with Mr. Grey. Ronan hadn’t stirred. Adam thought he’d probably want to be woken so they could get to Cabeswater as soon as possible. 

Before he could act on this thought, blood welled up from a spot on Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan remained eerily still. “ _ Shit, _ ” Adam hissed. Two swift strides took him from the doorway to Ronan. He frantically scanned the room for something to put on the wound while he jostled Ronan in a way he hoped was strong enough to wake him but gentle enough not to hurt him.

He found Ronan’s crumpled t-shirt on the floor and pressed it to the wound. Ronan still wasn’t moving, but he had started groaning in a way that suggested a combination of pain and annoyance.

“Ronan.”

“‘M ‘kay,” Ronan responded, slurred in a way that suggested his mouth hadn’t quite regained motion yet either.

“You are  _ not. _ ” Adam pressed lightly on the injury for emphasis. 

Ronan rolled to his back and opened his eyes. “Just Chainsaw,” he said, apparently unphased by bringing an injury back from a dream. “I didn’t do anything stupid.”

Adam did not see how  _ Chainsaw bit me and dream bites transfer to real life _ was supposed to be reassuring, but he ignored it temporarily in favor of wrangling Ronan into the bathroom for cleaning and bandaging.

Then he started with the more easily explained question. "Why'd Chainsaw bite you?"

Ronan snorted. "She didn't like me getting too close to Battlechick. Apparently she has a human-sized chick now."

"I should've thought to warn you," Adam said contritely, "She insisted on staying between me and Battlechick so I should've suspected."

Ronan waved him off. "Not like it's the first time she bit me. Don't worry about it."

"The worrying part," Adam said, "Is that you got dream-injured and." He gestured at Ronan's shoulder.

"Oh. When I said I was actually there in my dreams…. That's what I meant."

"That's what you meant by  _ no danger." _

"Opal was there," Ronan replied nonchalantly. When Adam kept his worried frown, he clarified, "She can force me to wake up." 

Adam sighed. "Moot point now, I guess. Piper's taken care of."

Ronan nodded, once, and started to stand, then abruptly sat back down and leaned his forehead against Adam's chest. "Matthew wants to come with when I talk to mum."

"Of course." It wasn't like Matthew would've wanted something else, so Ronan was bringing it up for a different reason. "What's the problem?"

"He was pretty pissed-" Ronan stopped to drag Adam closer, wrap an arm around his waist, press the side of his face to his chest. "-Pissed mum's been there since he was a baby." He paused and huffed, the exhale tickling Adam's skin. "He thinks she should've left him there instead."

"What the fuck," Adam murmured, pulling his own arm tight around Ronan's shoulders. "I think self-sacrificing idiot might run in your family."

Ronan snorted. “Looks like mum won the self-sacrifice competition. Don’t you dare call my mum an idiot.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway.” Ronan pulled back to look up at Adam. “I couldn’t convince him not to bring that up to mum, so I guess we’re gonna have that shitty conversation.”

Adam rubbed his hand over Ronan’s head. “I think your mum will be able to shut that down pretty quickly.”

Ronan groaned and stood up. “I know, I’d just prefer she wouldn’t have to.” He bent to rummage in a bathroom cabinet and emerged with a bag labeled  _ Pet First Aid _ . “I got this for Chainsaw, but I guess it should work for giant magic birds too.”

* * *

Matthew roused himself and dressed in record time once he learned what they were doing. As soon as they stepped into Cabeswater, Adam noticed how tranquil it was. Muscles that he hadn’t known were tense eased.

_ See if Aurora can meet us here _ , he asked Cabeswater, trying to send a mental image of Battlechick’s clearing. A soft answering rustle flowed towards the edge of the forest. 

Both birds were dozing when they arrived, Chainsaw in a tree, Battlechick on the ground beneath. Chainsaw woke before they could cross the clearing and glided herself down in front of Battlechick, ruffling her wings threateningly and giving them an angry  _ KREK! _

“Hey, girl,” Adam said softly, crouching down. “We’re here to help. You know what this is?” He offered the first aid kit for Chainsaw’s inspection.

She pecked at the bag until he opened it, then systematically removed several of the items inside and piled them next to Battlechick.  _ Keh, _ she announced, hopping to the side and cocking her head at Adam. He approached the pile carefully and found that Chainsaw had pulled out all the supplies he’d thought he might need.

“You’ve done this before, huh?” 

Chainsaw looked self-satisfied. She settled down by her supply pile to supervise Adam’s care of Battlechick.

Without Piper’s magic impelling her, Battlechick was tractable, even almost friendly. Maybe Chainsaw’s influence helped, or maybe Battlechick was essentially an overgrown cockatoo. She kept impeding Adam’s work by trying to rub her face against his shoulder.

Adam heard Aurora arrive shortly after he began cleaning Battlechick’s wounds. He tried not to eavesdrop, but none of the Lynches seemed concerned about keeping their reunion private. So he caught the gist of the conversation from the snatches that he heard.

“Mum,” Ronan started gruffly, “You’re you. We figured it out.”

Aurora said something quietly; or perhaps loudly, but muffled by the hug Ronan and Matthew simultaneously engulfed her in.

After a long while, Ronan spoke again. “We’re going to figure out how to bring you home. I’m sorry it took so long to-- to--” His voice cracked, and Aurora cut in before he recovered it.

“You weren’t supposed to  _ need _ to find out,” Aurora said firmly. “Your father and I were working on a solution. But we will figure it out now.”

“You should have left me here,” Matthew proclaimed loudly.

“That wouldn’t have worked, darling--” the explanation became too quiet for Adam to follow. He focused on figuring out how to wrap the bandage. He wasn’t confident that it would stay put very long, despite his best effort.

Adam was so focused on working out a more secure wrap that he startled when Ronan came up next to him and put a hand on the small of his back. “Looks good enough to me,” Ronan said, as if he’d heard Adam’s thought. “Come meet Mum properly.”

Adam let himself be steered to where Aurora and Matthew stood. “Mum, I need to tell you,” Ronan began. “Me and Adam-- he’s-- um. We’re dating?” His fingers tensed against Adam’s back.

“I think I’m offended you phrased that as a question,” Adam teased.

Aurora laughed gently. “I gathered as much. I’m happy for you, love.” Ronan’s hand relaxed and slid across Adam’s back to grip his waist. Aurora studied Adam intently: brow furrowed lips pursed. “You’re Seondeok’s Adam, aren’t you?”

“I-- yes’m.” Of course Aurora had known Seondeok, but that Aurora knew of  _ him _ came as a surprise.

Aurora seemed to recognize his shock. “We happened to get a call from Seondeok the last time--” she waved a hand in the general direction of the doorway with a sad, faraway look in her eyes before continuing in a quieter voice. “The last time I was home. She told me all about you.”

“Mum,” Matthew said. He wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulders. Aurora leaned her head against his shoulder and frowned thoughtfully at Adam and Ronan. “Isn’t it a coincidence that she told me about you just before...everything?” she mused. Aurora said  _ coincidence _ the way Gansey said it, the way that implied it wasn’t a coincidence at all. “I have a feeling you’re meant to be here, Adam.”

“That’s what Opal told me the moment she saw me. I don’t understand--” 

Ronan stopped Adam with a hand over his mouth. “It’s magic, Mr. Spock, not science. Save your giant brain for understanding more important things.”

“Like how to bring mum home,” Matthew offered.

Aurora lifted her head from Matthew’s shoulder. “I think the first thing we need to confront,” she said briskly, “Is that it’s probably impossible to change a sidhe bargain when one party doesn’t remember making it.”

Ronan scowled. “You said we’d figure it out. That sounds more like giving up.”

“Oh, no.” Aurora reached out a hand to Ronan; he took it and let her squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I’m just saying I think there are multiple steps to figure out. The first step is restoring the sidhe’s memory. The second step is convincing her to annul the bargain.” She paused. “As far as I know, there’s no more benefit for her in the bargain. I hope the second step will be relatively simple.”

“It’s the sidhe,” Ronan grumbled, “Nothing is simple.” But he seemed relieved by Aurora’s explanation. “I’ll tell Declan to bring her as soon as he can.”

“Ah.” Aurora winced. “I don’t think that’s necessary. She won’t be able to come here, or I there, until Samhain.”

“Fuck.”

“You could, like, stand in the doorway?” Matthew offered hopefully.

“There is no buffer zone, unfortunately.” Aurora held her left hand out and uncurled it so they could see the palm. There was a dark burn scar, about half an inch wide, across her palm and near the base of her thumb.

Matthew grabbed her hand gently in both of his and brought it nearer his face, like close inspection might have healing properties. “The branch burns you if you don’t--” he dropped Aurora’s hand. Adam glanced at Ronan; the set of his jaw said he’d already figured it out. “Why’d you….” Matthew trailed off again.

“When I suspected Niall-- that something had happened to Niall,” Aurora began, quiet with unexpressed grief. “I tried that first, standing in the doorway to see what I could see. There’s no middle ground. I had to go inside.”

Ronan made a strangled noise and moved abruptly away from Adam to engulf Aurora in a hug. Matthew had gotten there first, and they stood for a moment in a family knot. Matthew said into the knot, “You could’ve sent someone else?”

“I needed to see for myself,” Aurora said steadily. She somehow extracted herself from their human knot and looked at Adam. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Adam said slowly, because he  _ had _ been thinking furiously, “We might need to bargain with Mochta. To get the sidhe’s memory back.”

Ronan scrunched his face up in disgust. “You don’t think she’d make a bargain for that?”

“Who would she bargain with?”

“Ah, f---” Ronan dropped his face in his hands.

“It makes sense that Mochta would want you to stay,” Matthew said dejectedly. “Is that why he’s not here?”

“Probably,” Aurora replied. “But I think he’ll come around.”

* * *

Mochta did not come around. He met them in Cabeswater once, with extreme reluctance, and refused to say a word when talk turned to the bargain. After that he would only talk to Aurora; she made no progress convincing him. Adam received near-daily updates on this from Ronan, conveyed with increasing levels of frustration and anger.

Adam himself visited Cabeswater less frequently; only when Ronan explicitly asked him to. He didn't expect to find a solution there, and he felt he was intruding on family time. Plus school made increasing demands on his time as the semester went on. Some days he didn’t see Ronan until they were both in bed.

“Here you are,” Noah said late one night; he was leaving the house as Adam entered. “Ronan’s been glancing at the door every five minutes.”

“I--”

“Oh, I’m not saying that to guilt trip you,” Noah added quickly. “I just think it’s funny ‘cause Ronan thinks he’s subtle.”

Adam’s face relaxed into a small smile. “Imagine Ronan being subtle.”

“Like watching a newborn kitten try to walk,” Noah agreed, not at all a metaphor Adam would have used. “Later.”

Adam opened the door to find Ronan right behind it, grinning hugely. “You heard all of that, didn’t you.”

“Yup. I’m a kitten, huh?”

“You absolutely are not. I might need to erase that from my mind before I can kiss you.”

“I’ve got an idea.” Ronan dipped Adam -- an absurd maneuver since they were practically the same height -- and kissed him. “I missed you,” he whispered once Adam was standing again. “Are you ready to sleep, or do you have more nerd shit?”

Adam grimaced. “I should spend another hour on this damn project, yeah. You can go on without me though.”

Ronan rested his forehead on Adam’s shoulder and stood silently with his arms hanging limp by his sides. At last he sighed. “I can’t sleep, though. I just-- I keep running everything through everything over and over in my head, like if I do that often enough I’ll find the answer.”

It didn’t actually matter which end of the night his project consumed an hour of. “Let’s go sleep then,” Adam decided. “C’mon.”

* * *

Since they were making no progress with Mochta, Ronan returned to rummaging through his books. Adam helped as often as he could and kept his thoughts on the futility of this pursuit to himself. When Gansey learned of this he was quick to offer his help. He didn’t mind that the search was likely to be fruitless; he preferred the searching to the finding anyway. Matthew even joined in, chewing his bottom lip as he plodded through a thick compendium of folk tales.

A week before Declan and not-Aurora were scheduled to arrive, Adam came home to find Matthew alone in the living room, surrounded by a jumble of papers. “Hey,” Adam said.

“Hey,” Matthew mumbled at his papers. He seemed to be in a rare bad mood.

“Ronan in the bookshop?”

Matthew looked up at this. “He’s still in Cabeswater,” he said somewhat sulkily. “Mum sent me back to study when she found out I have an exam tomorrow.” He checked the time on his phone. “Maybe you should go get Ronan. He said he’d be back soon, like, an hour ago.”

“Alright,” Adam said, “I’ll bring him back to suffer with you.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “It’s chemistry, he won’t be any help.” He glared down at a page full of chemical equations. “I might need  _ you _ to suffer with me later.”

“Alright,” Adam agreed again. He left for Cabeswater.

Mochta was sitting against a tree just inside the doorway, his eyes closed and his face fixed in a thoughtful grimace. Adam considered the scene for a moment, then came to sit down next to Mochta. He opened his eyes and looked over at Adam.

“It’s not fair,” he announced abruptly.

“What isn’t--” Adam stopped himself, because there was really only one thing Mochta could be talking about. “What do you mean?” He asked more carefully.

“I mean--” Mochta thought. “I know everyone thinks I’m selfish for not wanting mum to go. But it’s not fair if she gets to go home and I don’t.”

“Is here not your home?”

“I don’t know,” Mochta said forlornly, now sounding very much like the young teenager he appeared to be. “Human stories make it sound like Tir na nOg is paradise, so maybe they’re right, I don’t know. But we don’t have things like airplanes and schools and-- and chainsaws.”

“But you could come to our world, right? Aurora’s curse doesn’t apply to you.”

“I might get stuck. On either side.” Adam’s confusion must’ve shown, because Mochta clarified, “The guardians are both pissed at me.”

“Well, Ronan’s just pissed because you wouldn’t help us.” Adam considered what he knew of Mochta’s and Opal’s relationship, but there wasn’t much to consider. “Why’s Opal pissed?”

“Dunno. I think she’s pissed at everything.”  _ She has some sort of grudge against Chainsaw, _ Ronan had said. She’d been against keeping Battlechick here. She seemed never to be around when Matthew and Aurora were.

“Hmm,” Adam said, on the basis of this evidence. “We’ll have to figure that out.” He stood and extended a hand. “We can go talk to Ronan now, though.” Mochta eyed Adam warily, but took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled up.

* * *

_ For 10 years, the arrangement proceeded as agreed. Twice each year, Aurora Lynch saw her family for a single day. She spent every minute of those nights with Niall, making love and considering how they might escape the fairy bargain. And she spent every minute of the days with Declan and Ronan and Matthew, observing how they had grown and changed since last she saw them. For her part, the leannán sí spent the day with her child, but she never told Niall Lynch how she occupied herself while the child slept. _

_ On Samhain eve in the 11th year, Aurora came to the customary place at the customary time, but the leannán sí was not there. Aurora waited there many hours. When midnight had long past and the first glimmer of dawn arose, Aurora conceded that the fairy lady would not come. And although she knew the pain her fairy-branch would cause, she determined that the next night she would visit the Lynches’ home. For she guessed that some harm had befallen her family, and she could not bear not to learn what had transpired. _

_ The next evening, Samhain night, Aurora traveled to the doorway that led from Tír na nÓg into Niall Lynch’s bookshop. She did not know how long she could endure the fairy-branch burning, and so thought to take the path directly into her home. Immediately as Aurora entered the bookshop, she saw that it had not been open for some time; a layer of dust covered the furniture, and an oppressive quiet smothered the air. So Aurora had her fears confirmed. She hurried from the bookshop to the house, clenching her jaw against the torment of the fairy-branch.  _

_ The house, too, was dust-covered; it seemed no one had lived there for months. Aurora searched frantically, and soon found her explanation on the dining room table. A funeral program told her Niall Lynch had died on the summer solstice; his middle son had found his body in the garden, with his head stove in and a blood drenched tire iron beside him. Then Aurora knew that her sons had left the site of their heartbreak; and that the fairy woman had lost all memory of the fairy realm and of their bargain. _

_ Aurora’s emotional agony eclipsed the physical agony of the fairy-branch, for she thought that the terms she herself had set doomed her to stay in Tír na nÓg, separated forever from her sons. And her anguish was increased knowing her sons were left in essence with no parent to look after them. So she returned to Tír na nÓg consumed with grief. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> margadh an Luain - a Monday bargain (an unlucky deal)


	9. Síleann do chara agus do namhaid nach bhfaighfidh tú bás choíche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Adam searched in vain for a while before he remembered he could ask Cabeswater where Opal was. It directed him to a part of the forest he hadn’t visited before, more primitive and tangled with undergrowth than the areas Ronan frequented. He picked his way through bushes and vines and even large ferns until he finally came to a thicket that seemed to have an intentionally shaped entrance about the size of an Opal._
> 
> More Lynch family lore is revealed. A solution brings more problems. Seondeok to the rescue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, it sure has been a whole month since the last chapter. This one is mostly unedited again.

It turned out that Mochta was correct in his concerns about Ronan's reaction. Ronan didn’t reject Mochta's offer outright, but he was immediately suspicious. 

After much fruitless back and forth, Mochta finally said, “You think all the magic is _here._ But I think that’s just because you have to spend most of your time _there._ So many things in the human world I’d never see if I stayed here. And I _am_ human.” He fixed Ronan with a challenging glare. It was very Lynch-like.

“Huh,” Ronan said. He returned Mochta’s glare with a skeptical one of his own, but didn’t say anything else.

“You could ask _my_ opinion, you know,” Aurora reproached them. They both turned to look at her, abashed. “You’re both right. Mochta should get to come with me, but he can’t get up to mischief, as Ronan put it. Don’t give me that look,” She added to Mochta, “I’ve _seen_ you.”

“So, what,” Ronan grumbled, “You’re volunteering to supervise?”

“I’m volunteering to _parent_.”

Ronan’s face did something strange and unhappy. Aurora’s expression mirrored his; she started to say something, then closed her mouth into a thin line.

Adam stepped closer to Ronan and gripped his elbow. “Maybe,” Ronan said in a small voice. They all looked at him. “Maybe that’s a topic for once you’re out of here.”

Aurora pursed her lips and tilted her head, but she seemed to be looking through Ronan, towards the doorway. “I wasn’t trying to avoid it.”

“No,” Ronan agreed. Adam gripped his arm tighter. “But we need to focus. I’m afraid--” his voice sunk, and he forced out the rest of the words like they were traveling through syrup. “--We might not figure it out in time.”

Aurora’s gaze snapped sharply back to Ronan. “We’ll make it, _a stór,_ we’re so close,” She said gently. Then more briskly, “What’s left?”

Ronan didn’t seem inclined to answer, so Adam did. “We need Opal to agree. And she seems to be avoiding us.”

Aurora didn’t answer right away. “I saw Opal a lot more often,” She said slowly, “When I first got here. Then I started spending most of my time in Tír na nÓg proper and less in Cabeswater….I thought Opal just preferred it here, but she can’t leave, can she?”

“No,” Ronan affirmed. “As far as I know. She won’t talk about it directly.”

They both looked at Adam in a way that made him uneasy. “You think she’ll talk to me?”

“Dunno,” Ronan said. “But she hasn’t talked to the rest of us about it, so.”

Adam took a deep breath. “Okay. I can go look for her now, and you can go back to the house like you told Matthew you would.”

Ronan scowled, but didn’t object.

Adam searched in vain for a while before he remembered he could ask Cabeswater where Opal was. It directed him to a part of the forest he hadn’t visited before, more primitive and tangled with undergrowth than the areas Ronan frequented. He picked his way through bushes and vines and even large ferns until he finally came to a thicket that seemed to have an intentionally shaped entrance about the size of an Opal.

He stooped to enter the opening, then stopped. This seemed to be Opal's house; he shouldn't enter without her permission. “Opal?” He called.

A tunnel about the same height and width as the entrance extended a little way into the thicket. Adam could just see where it opened up into a larger area. Opal appeared at the other end of the tunnel with a baleful glare, though it mellowed a bit when she saw Adam.

“Is anyone else with you?” She asked suspiciously.

“Just me.”

Opal considered. “If Cabeswater brought you here, I guess you can come in.”

Adam crept through the tunnel and emerged into the open area, which was thankfully a bit taller than he was. It was carpeted in a soft moss, but the ground was clear of any other growth. A few branches around the perimeter grew out horizontally, close to the ground like seats or perches. The only unnatural part of Opal’s dwelling was a nest of pillows and blankets in various states of grunge.

Adam suspected that some of the bedding might be ancient rather than just grimy. He walked over to the heap, aware of Opal’s eyes on him. A thick, coarsely woven blanket with a natural tan color caught his eye. He pulled it up for closer inspection.

“I didn’t steal,” Opal said defensively. “Lynches gave them to me.”

I didn’t think you stole them,” Adam said. He rubbed his thumb across a threadbare spot on the blanket. “But some of these are very old, aren’t they? You’ve been here for a long time.”

“Time is different here,” Opal hedged. She sized him up before adding the next sentence. “But it’s still been a long time.”

“And you can’t leave Cabeswater,” Adam added. Opal had joined him by her nest, and now she flopped down and buried her face between a newer-looking pillow and a wad of ancient blanket. Adam gently prodded her shoulder until she turned enough to look at him out of the corner of one eye. “Are you allowed to tell me why?”

“Nobody said I couldn’t,” Opal said vehemently into the pillow. “But I’m stuck here _forever_ so it doesn’t _matter._ ”

Adam considered this. “Well, I think you’re too smart to get stuck here forever by your own decision. It’s a punishment?” Opal slammed her forehead into the pillow a few times.

“Your punishment shouldn’t last forever.” Adam knew the sidhe did things differently, but he couldn’t imagine that being made responsible for guarding the doorway was a sentence for something big, like mass murder.

Opal rolled over onto her back to look up at him. “The sidhe don’t care if you’re not one of theirs.”

No matter how Adam tried to parse that sentence, it didn’t make sense. “But aren’t you…” Opal just glowered at him, apparently done explaining. “Glaistig doesn’t sound like an Irish word,” Adam realized. “You’re from another country-- well, not that. Another part of the Otherworld.”

“Something like a country,” Opal conceded.

Adam itched to ask what had happened, but instinct told him it would halt all his progress. He skirted the edge of the subject instead. “Who trapped you here? As long as we’re negotiating with sidhe, maybe we can talk to them too.”

Opal sat bolt upright and hissed, a terrified, feral sound. “ _Don’t_ ,” she said. “She will hurt you.”

“We--” Adam began. He was stopped by Opal jumping to her feet and squeezing her arms around his waist. “I’ll help,” she said desperately, voice muffled because her face was smooshed against Adam’s ribs. “As long as nobody else gets trapped trying to free me.”

“Okay.” Adam wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They were shaking. How had he missed the misery under her wariness and petulence? “Okay, we’ll find a way where nobody’s trapped.”

“You _won’t_ ,” Opal said, going limp against him. “That’s what I’m saying. Someone always has to be here guarding the doorway.”

“They don’t have to be imprisoned in Cabeswater. Ronan isn’t, on our side.”

“It’s different here.”

“Different how?”

Opal stayed limp and quiet for so long that Adam held onto her shoulders to keep her upright while he knelt to check on her. She had her head down and her eyes screwed shut, though if she’d been crying no tears had leaked out. “It sounds to me like you don’t want to hope for it,” Adam said gently.

“Hope is stupid,” Opal spat, without opening her eyes. Adam wondered how many generations of Lynches had passed through while Opal stayed here, how many of them had recognized her imprisonment and tried to end it. How many decades or centuries had it taken to quash hope completely?

“Alright,” he acknowledged. “Don’t do it, then. But we’ll still try.”

Opal opened her eyes to fix him with one of her fierce glares. “Don’t.” She ordered, “Do anything stupid.” Adam heard _don’t do anything so stupid as hope_ and wondered if he was reading too much into it. 

“It’s time for you to leave,” Opal added. She pushed his hands off her shoulders and stepped back. “Just tell Cabeswater when you need me.”

There was nothing else to say, or at least nothing Opal would listen to. Adam left.

* * *

Ronan was furious when he learned about the indeterminate length of Opal’s captivity, but it was an aimless fury. “I don’t even know where to _start_ fixing that,” he lamented, after exhausting his flood of lyrical curses. 

Matthew was more dejected than angry. “I thought we were making it all better. I thought Mum and Mochta coming home would make everyone happy --” Ronan scowled at the mention of Mochta -- “But we have to do something for Opal, don’t we?”

“Fucking obviously,” Ronan snarled.

“Yeah,” Adam agreed. He considered the two frustrated, exhausted men in the room. No, three; he was definitely included there. “But we don’t have to do it right now. We should take our time and make sure to get it right.”

“Makes sense,” Matthew said, somewhat calmer. “We should wait for Declan, too. He knows things.”

“Screw Declan,” Ronan grumbled, because Declan was a convenient outlet for his ire. “I know things too.”

They waited for Declan. Ronan and Matthew still visited Aurora daily; they also hashed out the details of their bargain with Mochta, but for now Adam knew only as much as Ronan told him, which tended to be along the lines of _that went better than expected_ or _that was a complete shitshow._

Adam himself tried to get ahead on schoolwork while the others were in Cabeswater. He wasn’t part of the bargain, and Opal clearly hadn’t wanted him to come back. He _was_ going to be part of freeing Opal, though; he would’ve said he knew it intuitively, except he sometimes heard verdant rustling sounds just at the edge of hearing and saw flashes of green and brown from the corner of his eye.

The day before Declan and not-Aurora arrived, Adam received an email from Seondeok. It was a forwarded receipt for two flights to Galway. All Seondeok had added was: _Persephone said I should be there. Henry is coming as well._

“Jesus,” Declan groaned, because Ronan had seen fit to inform him of this as soon as they’d arrived at the house and settled not-Aurora in the master bedroom. “What for? I was under the impression we had Mum’s bargain straightened out.”

Ronan grimaced. “I still think we do. This might have to do with Opal. And….doorway stuff.”

“Doorway stuff,” Declan echoed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Doorway stuff and Seondeok. You think something’s wrong with the doorway protection?”

“Not wrong….maybe kinda wrong? I don't--” Adam jostled his shoulder against Ronan’s so he’d shut up.

“ _What_ are you talking about? You haven’t said anything about the doorway recently.”

“I didn’t wanna break your concentration,” Ronan said, leaning into Adam’s shoulder with enough force that he had to brace himself. “There wasn’t really anything to say. Mum just said she needed to tell us about the doorway bargain once everyone was here.”

“Well, everyone’s here,” Matthew piped up before Adam or Declan could complain about Ronan’s reticence. “We could go now?”

“It would be good to while Mum--” Declan broke off and shook his head, gesturing towards the closed bedroom door. “While she’s sleeping. But first I need coffee and breakfast. And coffee.”

After breakfast, and after Declan had downed coffee at a rate that put Adam’s study-session consumption habits to shame, they travelled through the doorway. Declan stopped just inside Cabeswater and contemplated it silently.

After a long while, he said, “I haven’t been here since I was...five, maybe.” 

Ronan snorted. “That’s on you, man.”

“I didn’t--” Declan snapped. He stopped and rubbed his temples. “Fine, I guess _technically_ I could’ve come back. But the trees don’t talk to me.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Ronan said more soberly.

“They don’t talk to me either,” Matthew said unconcernedly. “I think they like me though.”

“It’s fine,” Declan said, though Adam had his suspicions about whether it actually was fine. “Do we know where Mum is?”

“With the birds, probably.”

“You have multiple birds now?” Declan asked. His eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you kept the monster that tried to kill you.”

“Chill, she’s just a baby. She likes us now that we rescued her from Piper.”

Declan frowned at Ronan, but followed his brothers.

Aurora was already there waiting for them. Adam hung back and gave Chainsaw the attention she demanded so as not to intrude on Declan's reunion. It wasn’t long, though, before Ronan beckoned Adam over with a tilt of his head.

Aurora looked around at them. “Alright,” She said. “I was thinking about Opal, and how long she’s been here. Do you all remember the story of how the Greywarens began?”

Declan answered first. “More or less. It’s been a long time since I-- since we’ve heard it.” He looked at Ronan.

Ronan plucked his leather bands with his teeth. “Yeah.”

Matthew screwed his face up thoughtfully. “I can’t remember if I’ve heard it.”

“And Adam hasn’t heard it,” Aurora said. “I can summarize--”

“No!” Matthew protested. “I wanna hear the whole story.”

“Well.” Aurora looked around at each of them, her gaze stopping on Adam.

“I’d like to hear it too,” he told her.

“I suppose we’re in no rush,” Aurora conceded. She sat on one of the benches that had appeared in the clearing since the last time Adam had been there and clasped her hands around one knee, a faraway look in her eyes as she summoned the story from her memory. 

“Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, there lived a man called Brandubh Lynch. He married a wise and kind lady, Grainne, and brought her home to his farm. For several years they lived happily, and their farm prospered under the care of two knowledgeable stewards. 

"Unbeknownst to the Lynches, a thin place opened right next to their house. The sidhe who knew of this doorway between the worlds did not allow themselves to be seen, but they watched through the doorway so they might learn of mortal affairs.

"In particular, a noblewoman of the sidhe, Niamh, spent much time watching through the doorway. And she became jealous when she saw how the crops flourished and the livestock fattened, for the Lynch farm was better managed than anything in the realm of Tír na nÓg.

"So Niamh wished to bring a human into Tír na nÓg to manage her affairs, and devised a plan to do so. One day while Grainne was tending the sheep alone, she approached her in the guise of a beggar girl. ‘Please, great lady,’ she said, ‘I have been walking all day and I’m so hungry. Do you have a crust of bread to spare?’

"Grainne was flattered, for while their farm prospered, she was no great lady. So she brought Niamh home with her, and shared bread and stew and wine. But Niamh contrived to slip a sleeping powder into Grainne’s wine; and once it had taken effect, she carried her away into Tír na nÓg. 

"When Brandubh returned home from his own work and saw the remnants of the meal Grainne and Niamh had shared, he knew something was amiss. He asked his closest neighbors, and one of them had seen, from afar off, someone approach Grainne in the sheep pasture, but they knew nothing else. So he went to consult the local wise woman, Gobnait; for not only was she a skilled healer, she was said to be a soothsayer.

"When Gobnait heard what Brandubh had found and what his neighbor had seen, she surmised that the sidhe must be behind Grainne’s disappearance. ‘There is strong magic here,” she told Brandubh, ‘so it seems clear to me that there must be a thin place; but though I have been searching many years, I have not found it. But now I think that it must be on your farm.’

"So Gobnait returned with Brandubh, and with her craft she was able to find the thin place. Brandubh wished to immediately enter and search for his wife, but Gobnait cautioned him that without a plan, he would only become ensnared in Tír na nÓg himself. 

"‘You should know that the sidhe will not let your wife go unless you offer them something in return,’ Gobnait said. ‘So you should think on what you have to offer; and meanwhile I must return to my house and prepare such gifts as might bring us safe passage through Tír na nÓg. I will return tomorrow.’

"Though Brandubh thought through the night, he could think of nothing to offer the sidhe except his own self; and this would not suffice, for then he and Grainne would still be separated. Furthermore, he knew she would never agree.

"So Brandubh continued to think on this problem as they traveled through the thin place. They had walked only a few steps into Tír na nÓg when they were accosted by a Glaistig, who looked like a young human girl save for her goatish legs. ‘You haven’t permission to be here,’ she said.

"‘We have met none of your race in the mortal realm, and so we could not ask permission,’ Gobnait replied. ‘But we ask it of you now.’ She bowed, and Brandubh hastened to do the same.

"‘I am only the guardian of this gate,’ the Glaistig said. ‘But the trees will carry your message to the palace. What is it you seek in our realm?’

"‘I seek my wife, who was carried away by one of your people.’

"‘They do not accept me as one of their people,’ the Glaistig snarled with sudden vehemence. ‘But the trees have heard your message, and someone should come here shortly.’

"‘What do you mean,’ Gobnait asked, ‘that they do not accept you? Surely you are sidhe.’

"‘I am exiled here and guard this gate as penance,’ the Glaistig replied shortly. ‘I will not speak more of it.’

"Brandubh considered. ‘If you guard the gate,’ he asked, ‘why does it seem to have been so easy for one of the sidhe to pass through and steal my wife?’

"‘I can prevent mortals from entering Tír na nÓg,’ the Glaistig said, ‘but my exile robs me of any power over the sidhe. And no sidhe would of their own will live here, apart from the realm. So it would need a mortal guardian to prevent sidhe from visiting the mortal realm whenever they wish.’

"Just then, they saw a tall and beautiful fairy woman walking through the woods towards them. ‘Mortals,’ she called, ‘have you dared to enter here with no offering?’

"‘We have not,’ Gobnait replied. ‘We have brought fresh bread and cream.’ She produced these items and offered them to the woman.

"Niamh - for it was she who came to greet them - accepted the foodstuffs. ‘So,’ she said, ‘you complain that I have taken your wife. But I doubt much that you could bargain anything in return that exceeds the benefits your wife brings to our realm.’

"‘It seems to me,’ said Brandubh, for he had been thinking on the Glaistig’s words, ‘that you need a mortal guardian for this doorway. I would offer myself for this task.’

"Niamh grimaced. ‘You perceive correctly.’ For though she and some others of the sidhe enjoyed using the doorway freely, their king was concerned that their thievery of crops and livestock would turn the mortals in that place against the sidhe. ‘But mortal lives are short,’ Niamh continued. ‘The length of your guardianship would be as nothing to us.’

"‘I and my descendents then,’ Brandubh declared. ‘For as long as you deem fair.’

"‘That is unwise,’ Gobnait hissed. ‘She will not make a fair agreement with you.’

"‘True,’ Niamh agreed, ‘But you would not get the best of this deal in any case. This is what I will offer: if you agree that you and your descendents guard the doorway for 1000 years, your wife may return home with you.’

"‘Let it be so,’ Brandubh replied. 

"Niamh vanished, but she soon returned with Grainne, who was overjoyed to see her husband. Niamh brought also two silver branches with leaves of gold. She gave one to Brandubh and the other to the Glaistig.

"‘These branches are tokens of safe passage to the realm you guard, which you may bestow as you see fit,’ Niamh said. ‘And also I will spell the doorway so that it is not visible except to any to whom you choose to make it known.’ There grew up on either side of the gate a yew tree, and the branches met overhead. But one could not see these trees unless they had the sight and knew to look for them. 

"Brandubh and Grainne, with counsel from Gobnait, decided it would be safest if they told no one of the doorway except the descendents to whom the duty of Greywaren passed. And also they hid the branch away, safe from prying eyes and grasping hands. And ever since, there has been a Greywaren in every generation of Lynches who keeps this doorway secret and safe.”

There was silence after Aurora’s story ended. It broke when Matthew asked, wonderingly, “So Opal’s a thousand years old?”

“That _is_ the question,” Aurora said. “I don’t know how long ago ‘hundreds and hundreds of years’ was.”

“Twelve hundred,” Ronan supplied. Everyone looked at him. “At least. We have copies of stuff written by Brandubh’s grandson. Had to be written between like, 600ish and 800ish.”

“Based on what?” Declan asked.

“Language stuff.”

“Thank you for that detailed explanation,” Declan said dryly. “So why are we upholding an agreement that’s been null for hundreds of years?”

“Because we just now figured it out,” Aurora said, at the same time that Adam said, “Regardless, we can use it as leverage to renegotiate.”

“What Parrish said,” Ronan agreed.

“It’s a good suggestion,” Declan said, “We’ll put a pin in it. Mum, I guess you haven’t met a Niamh here?”

“No. And I was looking for her, before your father died. We’ll have to ask my counterpart.”

“Surely Opal would know,” Matthew chimed in.

Ronan was muttering under his breath; to Cabeswater or himself or both. “Hell,” He said, “I’m going to go talk to her whether she wants to or not. Everyone go home, this’ll probably take a while.”

There were various protests, but in the end everyone did as Ronan asked. It _did_ take a while, and Ronan returned looking tired and pissed, but not-Aurora had awoken and so he passed off his mood as related to "bookshop stuff". 

It was not until bedtime that they had a chance to talk about it. Matthew had convinced not-Aurora to play Mario kart with him; the result of a whispered conversation with Declan while doing the dishes, Adam deduced. So he wasn't surprised when Declan quietly got up and followed them to Ronan's room.

Ronan scowled at him. "Three's company."

"I agree." Declan shut the door and leaned against it. "What did Opal say?"

Ronan scowled again, this time accompanied by a sigh. "She doesn't think the doorway bargain will help her. Also she seems to know Niamh, but she's terrified of her and refused to tell me until after we get Mum back."

"Oh," Adam said.

"Wait," Declan said.

Ronan looked between them. "Shit," He observed, "I'm thick."

"You’re under a lot of stress," Declan said diplomatically. Ronan rolled his eyes. "Also sounds like she may not know for sure."

“‘Kay. Sounds like you’re helping me in the bookshop tomorrow.” Ronan and Declan exchanged a series of looks indecipherable to Adam.

“I’ll help look for info on Niamh,” Declan agreed after the visual conversation ended. “Night.”

* * *

Adam went to school as if it were a normal day before retrieving Seondeok and Henry from the airport. Ronan had sent him a terse text to come in through the bookshop instead of the house. They entered to find Ronan and Noah sprawled on the floor next to a half-empty pizza box and Declan seated at the checkout desk examining something written on a notepad.

“I see we’ve entered the situation room,” Seondeok observed. “Do brief me.”

Noah scrambled to his feet. “I’m out,” He said, nodding politely to Seondeok. “Just stayed to see Henry. Hey, Henry.”

“Hey,” Henry responded. “Might we expect to see you at your dining establishment later this evening?”

“Yep.”

Noah left. They filled Seondeok in on the plan, and she immediately began poking holes in it.

“Bookshop or fairy mound?”

They all contemplated this basic decision that hadn’t occurred to them.

“Fairy mound?” Declan suggested tentatively. “It might have to be, depending on how strict the bargain was.”

“We can ask Mum.”

“Do,” Seondeok said. “Though I was asking because I think we’ll need to deactivate the doorway protections if you do it here. Some of them don’t play nice with other magical objects.”

Declan sucked in a breath. “Would you be able to reactivate them?”

“Adam would.” Seondeok sounded confident, but Adam had barely noticed the protections in all the times he’d traveled through the door. He went to it now, closing his eyes and placing one hand on each yew tree.

The artifacts were not in the trees, but on the bookshelves on either side. Hidden within or behind the books were three pairs of artifacts in all: one to hide, one to repel, one to defend. Adam laid them in a row on a shelf and examined them. They were undeniably powerful, but otherwise surprisingly straightforward.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “I can do these.”

“Then I’d rather bring Mum here, if we can,” Ronan decided. Declan nodded his agreement.

“Alright,” Seondeok acknowledged. “Next question. It sounds like the sidhe will be in Tír na nÓg when she regains her memory. What’s to stop her staying there and refusing to negotiate with you?”

“It’s a bad idea,” Declan agreed wearily, “But it’s what the branches require.”

“No,” Ronan interjected. Declan frowned at him. “No, because there’s time to exchange the branches. If we can finish the bargain-- I’ll ask Mum how long it is.” He stood to leave.

“I would like to visit her as well,” Seondeok said, following him. 

Ronan looked like he wanted to protest, but all he said was, “Yeah, I guess. Parrish--?” Adam shook his head, because he’d agreed to help Declan with the wording of the bargain. Ronan sighed and led Seondeok through the doorway.

Ronan grumbled about Seondeok’s eleventh-hour input after she and Henry had left, but he couldn’t deny they’d resolved the issues she brought up: they could meet in the bookshop, and Aurora thought they had around five minutes before the branches’ curse kicked in.

When Declan and Adam showed him the new agreement they’d written, Ronan gave it a perfunctory read, grunted at it, and dropped it back onto the coffee table.

“Eloquent,” Declan remarked.

“I’m not the one you have to convince. The gremlins were nowhere in sight, so we’ll have to find out in the morning.” 

They’d already collected Opal’s and Mochta’s input, but Ronan, Adam had noticed, was becoming increasingly anxious as Samhain approached. He linked his arm with Ronan’s and leaned into him. “They’re already convinced,” He reminded Ronan, “That’s just a final check.”

Adam felt the motion of Ronan’s head shaking. “It’s too perfect,” He muttered. “We’re missing something that’s gonna go to shit tomorrow.”

“I think we’ll be fine--” Declan began.

“ _You_ think we’ll be fine,” Ronan said incredulously.

“Until the sidhe gets her memory back,” Declan finished. “ _Then_ it’s likely to go to shit. But we need to know what kind of shit we’re in before we can start mucking it out.”

Ronan sighed and dropped his head on Adam’s shoulder.

“You’ll feel better about it in the morning.” Adam stood and dragged Ronan to his feet with him.

In the morning, meeting with Opal and Mochta went as smoothly as Adam had expected. Then it was the calm before the storm. They all milled about the house and gardens more or less aimlessly while they awaited dusk.

“I know they’re up to something,” not-Aurora confided in Adam. “Is it a surprise? I _am_ fairly confident today isn’t my birthday.” Adam was relieved when she believed his vague reassurances.

Finally, Seondeok and Henry arrived, with Noah in tow (“it’s so I’m not the only one here uninvolved with the magic,” Henry had explained, though Adam had never known Henry to be _entirely_ uninvolved when there were magic goings-on). Everyone gathered in the bookshop.

They’d agreed to keep the golden branch from not-Aurora until the last minute, since it seemed the thing most likely to jolt her memory prematurely. Declan checked his watch repeatedly as dusk drew closer. He finally stepped over to where not-Aurora sat in an armchair pulled in from one of the side rooms and wordlessly handed her the branch.

“Oh,” She said, turning it over in her hands. “One of your father’s strange artifacts. It’s a pretty one.”

Adam breathed a sigh of relief, and felt Ronan do the same next to him. 

Aurora, Mochta, and Opal stepped through the doorway. Opal immediately came over to wrap both her arms around one of Adam’s. Chainsaw glided in after them and landed gently on the checkout desk, trying for stealth, though she was too large to go unnoticed.

“Goodness me,” not-Aurora exclaimed. At first Adam thought she was startled by Chainsaw; then he realized she was looking at the others. “Where did you all come from?”

Matthew came next to her chair and squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll explain in a bit,” He promised.

“Are we ready?” Declan asked brusquely. He looked between Aurora and Mochta, Opal and Ronan.

All except Opal nodded. Mochta stepped toward Ronan and held out a hand. As Ronan clasped the hand, Mochta looked towards Opal and Adam. “You too,” he told Opal.

She stepped forward, still clinging to Adam’s hand, and placed her free hand over theirs. “You gotta let go of Adam, runt,” Ronan said. She glowered at him, but dropped Adam’s hand. Aurora added her hand on top of Opal’s.

“You go first,” Mochta instructed Ronan. They’d been over this before, but Mochta seemed almost as nervous as Ronan now. “Tell me what you’re offering and why you have power to make the bargain, then I tell you my side.” He looked intensely at their joined hands. “Then, um, something magic happens? I’m not sure what it is, but that’s all we need to do to finish the bargain.” He looked at Opal, who rolled her eyes and gave him an exaggerated nod.

“Okay,” Ronan said. “As the Greywaren who guards this doorway between worlds, I give you permission to live in the mortal world for as long as you please, and to travel freely between the worlds.” He brought his free arm up to chew on his leather bands. “This permission stands so long as you do nothing to harm or deceive humans.”

“As guardian of Cabeswater, I also give you permission to travel between the worlds,” Opal muttered reluctantly.

Mochta’s eyes darted towards not-Aurora, who now seemed to be paying them no attention. Nonetheless, he kept his voice quiet as he said, “As the son of the sidhe in this room and of Niall Lynch, who was one of the parties to the bargain she made eighteen human years ago, I renounce all the terms of that bargain, and in particular the term that removed her memory of Tír na nÓg.”

“As the other party to that bargain,” Aurora finished, “I also renounce all terms and agree to the restoration of her memory.”

From the perspective of those watching, nothing happened. Almost nothing. Adam saw Ronan give a nearly imperceptible startle; whether it was some physical sensation of the magic or the emotional shock of being suddenly so close to their final goal, Adam didn’t know.

“Ohhhh. _Oh._ ” They all turned to look at not-Aurora. She gave them a feline smile. “Someone’s finally been clever.”

Opal darted back to Adam and hissed something unintelligible to him.

“We’ve been collectively clever,” Declan said shortly. “You certainly made it difficult. Do you remember everything?”

“From before Niall died, yes.” Ronan winced as she continued. “After, it’s hazy. Memory loss has that effect, magical or no. But I remember you took care of me as best you could, so I suppose I’ll let you live.” She smirked as if this was supposed to be a joke, though it didn’t sound entirely like one.

Declan gave a half-shrug. “What else would we have done?”

The sidhe tittered. “I’m sure that’s rhetorical, dear. You know what people can be like. Though I don’t think you devised a way out of this bargain solely out of filial devotion.” Her eyes shifted to Aurora. “Well, not towards me, anyway.”

“They figured out the arrangement, of course,” Aurora. “Ours _and_ the original.”

“Ah, I see. That’s why you needed me.” Her eyes roamed the room. “Or no, you weren't sure about that, were you? Let me introduce myself, then. My name’s Niamh. I’m sure you recognize it from the family lore.”

“Fucking convenient for us then.” Ronan stood from where he’d been leaning against both a bookcase and Adam. “It’s past time to renegotiate the doorway agreement.”

Niamh sighed. “And your family couldn’t let their memory of that fade away with all the other forgotten human history. No, you have to be _different_ from other mortals. We won’t get to enjoy all the fun we could’ve had with an unguarded doorway.” 

She strode over to the doorway and examined the trees and surrounding bookshelves keenly. “On the topic of guarding,” She drawled, turning back to the room, “The protection on this side is woeful. Your trees are mostly dead. I see you’ve salvaged them--” Here she paused to run her hand dramatically along a shelf -- “But we all know that’s not the same. And the wards you’ve added are hardly even noticeable.”

“They’re deactivated,” Seondeok interjected, entering from the side room where she, Henry, and Noah had been observing the proceedings.

Niamh inspected the shelves again. “So they are,” she conceded. “And I suppose you’ll be expecting sidhe magic to reactivate them for you?”

“No,” Adam said shortly. “I’ll do it.”

Niamh looked him up and down, scrutinizing. “I suppose you could, druid boy,” She said grudgingly. Her gaze shifted to pierce each Lynch in turn. “Where did you find your seer? _Someday_ I’ll come to toy with your family and you won’t have a magician here to help.”

“Cabeswater found him.” Opal had avoided Niamh’s stare by shifting herself behind Adam, but apparently this information was important enough for her peek out again. Chainsaw screeched agreement, then huddled down as small as possible.

“I _see_ ,” Niamh said. “In that case, a condition for our negotiation: restore Cabeswater to this realm.”

Declan made a choking sound. 

“Fucking excuse you?” Ronan snarled.

“I don’t know,” Adam murmured, but he stopped there. He didn’t know, but he could feel the shape of it; he sensed that Cabeswater wanted to exist in both worlds.

Niamh raised her eyebrows at them. “And why do you think Cabeswater’s forged a connection with a druid after all this time?”

“Because,” Ronan began, “He’s--”

“Oh, stop,” Niamh interrupted. “You’re clearly not an objective party, and I’ve already told you the reason.”

“You’re demanding this as a condition before you even come to the bargaining table?” Declan asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I think it’s only fair if we choose one condition of the new agreement that you have to accept.”

“Fair?” Niamh sneered. “You think I care about _fair._ ”

“I think you care,” Aurora said sharply, “About forging a new compact. But if you don’t, I know there are others in Tír na nÓg who do.”

Niamh subjected each person to a long moment of scrutiny before she answered. “Very well. I’ll be back tomorrow at the same time. I expect to see a forest beyond that door.”

“ _Stop,”_ Seondeok ordered. Adam had rarely seen her so furious. Niamh either did not recognize this or refused to acknowledge it. She simply stood and waited. “You know how much magic that would take.” Seondeok declared, sharp and resolute. “You know what it would mean for a human to attempt it in one day.”

“Cabeswater summoned him,” Niamh said. “Cabeswater can keep him alive, if it so wills.” She strode through the doorway before anyone could react.

* * *

_While Aurora and Niall and the leannán sí had kept their bargain secret from other humans, it was not possible to hide from the aes sidhe that Aurora was not one of their own, and that the leannán sí was no longer in their realm but for two days a year. And since the Matthew whom Aurora raised in Tír na nÓg was aes sidhe, he had discovered early on that Aurora was human, and worked out where his fairy mother was._

_Now, fairies are known to be cruel more than kind, and capricious more than compassionate. But because fairy-Matthew had been fostered by a human, and because that human was Aurora Lynch, as kind and compassionate a person as you could find, fairy-Matthew had himself grown to be more kind and compassionate than all the other aes sidhe. So he was sorrowed by his foster mother’s bereavement, and searched for a way she could visit her sons._

_Aurora had never told fairy-Matthew of the doorway into the bookshop, for it was a closely guarded secret of the Greywarens, Lynches for countless generations. But he knew that she had not gone through the fairy-mound on the night she learnt of Niall’s murder. So fairy-Matthew began frequenting the forest where Aurora had disappeared that night, thinking that one day her sons might come back and travel through whatever doorway she had used._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> síleann do chara agus do namhaid nach bhfaighfidh tú bás choíche - both your friend and your enemy think you will never die
> 
> Come scream at me about that cliffhanger (or whatever) on [Tumblr](semicolonsandsimiles.tumblr.com).

**Author's Note:**

> I've tried to keep the elements from Irish mythology/folklore true to their original selves as much as possible, but I'm not an expert and sometimes things happen for the sake of the story. For example, the leannán sí is not an ancient legend -- she was invented by Yeats -- but she is here for Plot Reasons.
> 
> I also don't speak Irish apart from the little bit I've learned from Duolingo while working on this fic. There's not nearly as much Irish here as I originally envisioned, but then it's Adam POV and he doesn't speak Irish. The title and chapter titles I mostly learned from _Motherfocloir: Dispatches from a not so dead language_ , and occasionally from the internet.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [into magic wild](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019515) by [sneakygeit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakygeit/pseuds/sneakygeit)




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